A Bitter Pill To Swallow
by Benzol85
Summary: Follow-on from previous fanfic.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N - Hey there. I wasn't **overly **content at how my last fic ended, so have decided to do a sequel for it - plus I wanted to add a few more complications! This follows on from where he left at the end of the last one, but I thought I'd keep the plotline going._

_I think it's fairly clear to most out there that Chris leaving was just...well, the worst thing he could've done. Especially the way he **did** happen to leave on top._  
><em>Oh well, we can't always have things our own way. Here we go!<em>

_xXx_

"So how did it feel handing in your notice then?" Clara tossed a dustsheet over the sofa as she helped in getting everything ready to be moved.

Chris shrugged. "Weird, I guess." He felt _incredibly _thankful that she decided to muck in with covering everything up.  
>They weren't due to move for another month, but he would've rather got everything done than wait till it got further down the line or leave it at the last minute.<p>

"Really, why do you say that?"

He had to think for a few minutes. "'Cause I never thought I'd see myself _do _it."

"When's your leaving date?"

He smirked to himself at the fact that she was asking him twenty-one questions. "It isn't just yet. I work there for another four weeks and then I'm gone."

She nodded slowly. "I think they'll _miss _you."

He noticed she'd finished helping him out where she could. "Ok," he went over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, "you wanna come out with me and get a takeout now?"

They never went out and did things like that, but they'd bonded incredibly well during the preliminary packing.  
>In fact, things had gotten better between them since <em>that night<em>.

After they'd had something, they snuggled up together on the dustsheet-draped sofa, watching a late-night film.  
>It was something Chris <em>rarely <em>ever did on a weeknight, but he should've at least allowed himself to relax a bit more – he was leaving his job within a month or so!

"Getting tired yet?" He nuzzled his nose in Clara's dark hair, liking its freshly sugary scent as he took it in.

She shook her head. "I'm surprised _you're _not," she pointed out, "you should've gone to sleep an hour ago."

"I guess you're right. I _should_ go to bed," he sat up more as he thought about turning in, "but _you _have to go to bed as well as me."

"But dad…"

He still couldn't believe how annoyingly foreign the 'dad' label felt to him. "Now come on, don't start that. You know full well that doesn't work on me."  
>He quickly got up after switching the TV off. "Get yourself to bed, young lady."<p>

She pouted cutely, although she did what he told her to. Nonetheless, she still proceeded to do what he'd told her to.

He may have been everything anyone at her age could've wanted as a father. He doted on her like mad and loved her to pieces, but he expected her to obey him when it came to things like _bedtime._

She leapt into bed, waiting in anticipation for him to come in, fold in the sides of the blankets under the mattress and give her a kiss. She hoped that he'd still do all that once they'd moved into their new place as it was something she felt she _thrived _on.

"I know what you're _waiting_ for," he teased in a singsong voice as he came into her room.  
>He carefully folded in the sides of her blankets and leant over her to kiss her.<p>

She closed her eyes in anticipation of the kiss, but she opened her eyes when she didn't feel it. It was something she didn't want to be without.  
>Maybe her worst fears had been confirmed in the fact that he felt she should've grown out of it; after all, she <em>was <em>seventeen.

Instead, his bright, blue eyes fixed onto hers and they weren't expressing anything _lucid_– he was just leaning over her and staring into her piercing green orbs. "Close your eyes and go straight to sleep." He cupped her face softly. "Don't want you crabby in the morning, do we?"

She giggled at his teasing remark and slid her hand up his arm. "Not like last time?"

"_Especially _not like last time."

She was still waiting for his kiss. "Love you, dad."

He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Love you too, honey. Sleep well now."

Chris couldn't sleep.  
>He knew <em>why<em>, of course – everything that was happening was happening in ways he wasn't _expecting_them to.

For starters, his and Clara's bond was as strong as it had _ever_ been, not that he was complaining; secondly, managing to find a place that was suitable for _both_ of them was strangely easy to find and get hold of, and thirdly, having to hand in his notice was easier than expected. When he explained to Karen what his intentions were, she didn't say _anything _that would've stopped him from going.

That, he couldn't quite understand and he knew that there was something that seemed to be playing on her mind more so than him handing in his notice to her. He knew that was a better option than to have walked out completely, and if he did the latter it wouldn't have given him a very good reputation that he'd have left with the school.

He tried to switch his thought process off, but it was just _so hard_. He knew that whenever something was on his mind, it took him forever and a day to sleep and even if he _managed _to get any sleep at all the exhaustion was somehow able to set in the following day and really make itself known on him.

He vaguely heard something behind his door and it opened very slightly to reveal a tense-looking Clara in the doorway.  
>He should've acted a bit more shocked, but he wasn't. For some reason she'd been having trouble sleeping and he'd been refraining from letting her stay with him.<p>

That really wasn't viable in helping a seventeen-year old, but he found it too harsh in telling her to go back to bed, even if he _told _her to. He thought he'd managed to wean her off going to bed with him, but maybe a one-off wasn't so bad.

"You can't sleep either?" He loosely assumed, sitting up in bed. He was thankful she couldn't see just how tired he was.

She nodded slowly. "I didn't know if you were awake, but…"

Chris slid over to give her some room. "Unfortunately I _am_, but I'm not going to tell you to go back to your own bed this time."

Her eyes widened in glee. "Y-you mean you're letting me stay with you?"

He nodded slowly. "But just for tonight, ok? Then you have to stay in your _own _bed the next time you can't sleep. Is that fair enough?"

"Ok." She couldn't care less if it was just for one night, she felt _so _much better snuggling up to him.

He lifted the nearest corner of the blankets up for her to get in. "Come on then – before you get too cold or I change my mind."

Quickly, she scrambled into bed, and they snuggled up together.  
>She closed her eyes and drew in a small sigh at feeling him wrap his strong arms around her. Never before had she had anyone that felt so protective of her.<p>

"Now are you going to find it easier to sleep, young lady?"

"A lot easier…" Her voice tailed off from sheer exhaustion.

"Good," Chris pressed his lips to her forehead, "close your eyes then."


	2. Chapter 2

The start of the next week soon came round.  
>Chris was literally counting down the days before leaving with Clara. They'd be moving out together – hopefully to start where they'd so bitterly left off. Never before had he felt so connected to someone else, and it wasn't through sheer <em>emotion<em> that time, but through _inheritance_…through a _bloodline_.

He didn't expect to see Karen already in and at her desk.  
>He dropped a few papers in front of her, knowing that he was wrong in forgetting what had gone on between them the previous week. He didn't know what set her off, but he wasn't going to let it happen again. Saying nothing would guarantee that.<p>

"You're in early." She didn't lift her eyes up off what she was writing, yet knew that he was standing a few feet from her desk.

"If you didn't want me to be here so early or if it's a problem…" He started, realising he'd forgotten the promise he made to himself. So much for saying nothing from then till when he left, if that was the way she wanted to play it.

"It's no _problem_, Chris," she gave a small frown, "why would it be?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I just…got the impression last week that you weren't very happy with me. If there's a problem, I'd rather you tell me so."

She smiled softly as she looked to him. "I could _never_ be unhappy with you. It's a pity that you're _leaving _us, of course. But then again, so am I."

"Y-_you're _leaving _too_?" Chris reiterated incredulously. "But why?"

She shook her head faintly. She felt he was better off not knowing. It wasn't about _him_, it was _her_. "It doesn't matter…"

"It _does_." He came closer to her desk. "K-Karen, for you to leave…who would _replace _you? I know I won't be here for much longer, but I don't like the idea of you going. This place will no longer feel right without you."

Karen smiled almost wryly. "I could say the same about _you_."

"No," he stated steadily, "sooner or later I had to do this."

"…And that was going to happen _without _Clara?"

It was his turn to frown slightly. "Clara wasn't exactly a spanner in the works. She made me realise something that I wished I'd have taken on board so, so long ago."

"It's a _family _issue, isn't it?" She assumed loosely.

"Yeah," he nodded slowly, "if you like."

She drew in a deep sigh, going back to what she was writing.

"You have every right to think that what I'm doing is wrong or selfish, but being there for her is my calling. Anyone can think what they like, but this is all up to me."

"I don't think what you're doing is wrong or selfish _at all_," Karen piped up, "but I'm leaving for the exact same reason as _you_."

"You _can't _be." He replied. "Karen, everything for you has gotten better and better. Your family is back the way it was – almost. As for _me_, I didn't _have_ a family apart from a mum and dad who've split up. But to have my own _daughter_ turn up out of the blue…it was nothing I felt _ready_ for, but it turned into something I _wanted_. And she needs looking after."

"It was better when we had something."

Chris felt a small blush coming, but it hardly made its mark on his fair skin. "I appreciate what you say, and I'm really flattered, but it would just never work. We've both got too much going on. There are too many issues…I do feel something for you, but it'd never be strong enough to take priority over Clara, and I'm sorry."

She nodded sadly, stopping what she was writing. "So what will you do once you leave here?"

"I haven't quite worked that out as of yet," he explained, "but I've managed to get a larger place for us. The flat isn't really big enough for two people to live in. When it's my last day, we'll be moving there together – as a family."

She almost had tears in her eyes at what he'd said.

"Something wrong?" He asked, worried. He went to her side, and he gasped in shock at seeing her sharp eyes come over hazy – almost beset with emotion.

"I-I'm just happy that you're planning on starting a new life…one that you would've had some time ago."

Chris shrugged. "It wasn't on my _agenda_, but it's not something I can throw away once it's _happened_. Families aren't _like _that, are they?"

Karen smiled at his instinctive words of wisdom. "They most certainly are not."

"If you don't mind me asking, what exactly happened last week?" He didn't want to probe her – if she didn't want to tell him, then he would simply leave it at that. But he'd opened up to her and she'd quite clearly done so herself; to see her eyes well up with emotion was disclosure in itself.

"Just…a few family issues, that's all."

"Anything you want help with?"

She inwardly laughed at his offer of help. He'd only just started to bond strongly with his daughter, and she almost asked him what gave him the right to offer such thing. She was sure it was something he himself couldn't handle. "It's complicated."

He didn't seem bothered, and his only reaction was a nonchalant shrug. "Try me."

"Honestly, Chris," Karen looked to him softly, "it's probably nothing and it'll all come out in the wash."

"Ok, well, if you're sure…" He made to leave the room so that he could set up for his upcoming set. "If you happen to change your mind, you know where I am."

She nodded appreciatively. "Thank you."

Chris didn't think he'd have to find Jess and Vicki standing in front of his desk after his set with them. "I thought I _stopped _this."

The two girls looked to each other mock-blankly.

"I know that with _you_, Jess, this has been happening on and off," he flitted his gaze to the redhead crossly, "but never _you_, Vicki."

They still chose to say nothing.

"I don't really want you to stand there and work out an explanation to me, so I'm going to ask Vicki to go." He noticed the other girl almost make a run for the door. "Not so fast, Jess."

"I _have _got another set to go to." She replied bluntly.

He folded his arms across his chest. "I think I deserve an explanation from _yourself_, 'cause this has been happening on and off. Vicki was just a one-off."

Jess rolled her eyes up at the ceiling.

"Jess, I know how close you both are, but if this is 'cause the two of you are best mates and do things together, it's not a valid reason."

"That's 'cause that _is _why."

He shook his head dimly. "Not good enough." His clear blue eyes fixed onto her impassively. "And if that _is_ the real reason, you've got to _seriously _think about whether you wanna do well in your final exams or not. Bearing that in mind, I suggest you go to your next set now, ok?"

She made to leave his room. "B-but what about…are you going to tell my _mum_?"

Chris drew in a barely audible sigh. "Don't tempt me."


	3. Chapter 3

Clara got into the front passenger side of Chris's car at the end of that day. He was already waiting for her. "We really have to stop meeting like this." She teased.

"Why?" He teased back. "Worried someone might _say_ something? On top of ninety-five percent of the _school_ already knowing about us…" How could he have _forgotten _that night – that night when everything he'd planned to keep under wraps was painfully peeled from obscurity?

She smirked to herself. She still couldn't believe she had such an attractive male for a dad. There _was_ a catch somewhere, surely. He just seemed too good to be true, and even if there _was_ no catch, she certainly didn't feel _worthy _enough to have him to look after her.

"So then, my lady," he perkily started, "what do you say about us going for a takeout and watching a DVD together?"

"Sure," she playfully agreed, "as long as the DVDs aren't all boxed up."

He dexterously twisted the key in the ignition. "I'm sure I can unearth one or two if that be the case."

Jess shut herself away in her room, flopping down onto the bed. She felt an uncontrollable anger sear through her body, and she knew that there was only one outlet for the irrepressible feelings.  
>Unearthing a razor from her drawer, she switched her bedside lamp on and admired the blade's lustre within the light. She found it eerily calming, that it was her source of comfort; and she knew that the minute she used it on herself the pain would soothingly fade away into nothing.<p>

She pressed the fresh blade into the fair flesh at her wrist, drawing it downwards. She knew that by moving it widthways it would've finished her completely and that was _not_what she'd meant to happen. She felt a cold, calm release wash over her as the dark red fluid pooled and trailed along her skin.

"Is _this_ what you wanted?" She cried out, hoping that no one downstairs had heard. "Is _this _good enough for you?"

Once she'd released her anger, she carefully bound her wrist with bandages she took from the bathroom's cupboard. She felt lucky that her mum hadn't yet questioned as to why the first aid box always appeared to have been looked through and that she constantly found herself having to buy more packs of bandages.

She heard her mobile go off, and she quickly answered the incoming call. She was surprised to find that it was Vicki. "Hey." She bleakly picked up.

"Ready to go then?"

"Go where?"

"Out clubbing," the other girl replied, "don't tell me you'd _forgotten_."

"Oh." The redhead rubbed the sleep from the corners of her eyes. "I thought that was called off."

"Why, just 'cause we got told off for not completing _one _stupid assignment?" She retorted. "He's not going to do anything about it, Jess. He's all talk, you know that. Come out – forget about it."

She unexpectedly perked up. "You're right. I'm on my way. I just need to get ready."

"Ok, well, don't take too long in doing that."

"Jess!" Karen called from the bottom of the stairs. "Tea's ready when you are."

"She won't come down, mum," Harry noted nonchalantly, "you should know that by now."

"She _is _part of the family, Harry." She replied after sitting down between him and Bex. "And what does she do up there all night anyway?"

He shrugged. "Whenever I ask her, she always says she goes up there to _sleep_. I don't quite believe that somehow."

She came over more concerned. It had been going on for too long, and she wanted to know what she was doing.  
>For some unknown reason, to her, it didn't feel right.<p>

"Feel nice and full now?" Chris asked Clara, as they snuggled up together after having their takeout. He peered down at her slightly bloated stomach. "I know your _tummy _probably feels it."

She giggled a little and nestled into his warm, soft body. "I think that's an _understatement_." She looked to his stomach, which wasn't exactly flat itself. "I think your metabolism's slowing down."

He smirked playfully. "Oh, it'll be some time before _that_ happens. What you're seeing is _nothing _compared to the sizes it's been before."

She placed a hand over his stomach. "Whatever you say. If that's what makes you feel better."

"_Very_ funny." He gave her a mock pout, which only came off as cute.  
>"So then," he perked up almost immediately, "what DVD do you wanna watch?"<p>

Halfway through the film he'd put on, Chris was aware of Clara becoming heavier against him. She was nestled up with her body pressed to his, and even though she was petite for her age she was an unbelievable weight when half-asleep. "I hope I'm not going to have to take you to bed soon, young lady."

She closed her eyes, nuzzling her head into the side of his chest. "I don't wanna go to bed yet." She mumbled out tiredly.

He laughed a little. "Well it seems like you _need_ to." He stopped the DVD and after lifting her into his arms, carried her to her room. "And it _is _a weeknight, after all. Neither of us can afford to stay up too late."

"Is something wrong, dad?"

He'd finished folding the blankets in under the mattress and sat next to her. "Why do you say that, love?"

"I just…know that something isn't right."

He smirked slightly. "I'm giving off those sorts of vibes, am I?"

"Well, yeah."

He was a little surprised at her answer. If he seemed _outwardly _worried, it'd be something hard for him to hide. But for her to tap into his hidden feelings made him feel more guarded. "If there was a problem, I'd _say_, wouldn't I?"

Clara shrugged. "I guess," she gazed up into his bright blue orbs, "but I want you to feel able to talk to me about anything. That's what you've always said to me."

"I-in _some _cases," he cast his gaze away blankly, "but there are some things I can't talk to you about, Clara, 'cause they're things you just can't help me with."

She tilted her head a little. "Meaning I won't _understand_."

Chris almost opened up to her, but it was getting late and he didn't want her to lie awake with worry all night and not sleep. "Everything will turn out ok once I leave and we move out."

She snuggled further into the blankets, feeling that what he'd said to her had calmed her down somewhat.

"And we can spend much more time together – make up for what we've lost." And that was what he _wanted_ more than anything. He felt he had a right to blame himself for not knowing anything about her and wishing that in hindsight if he _did_, to have kept in touch with her or at least make some attempt in tracking her down.

"I hope so." Clara carefully reached out and cupped the side of his face. She gazed up at him admiringly.

"Go to sleep now." He leant further over her and planted a sugar-soft kiss on her forehead.

She watched him go to the bedroom door, after he switched off her lamp on the nightstand. There was still a significant amount of light that came into the room and allowed her to make him out from his slender silhouette. "Dad?"

He looked to her attentively.

"I love you and I didn't mean to worry you."

He smiled softly. "I love you too. Close your eyes, ok?" And he shut her door when he left her.

Jess half-expected Chris to ask her to stay behind the next day after his set with her.

"Finished it then?" He leant back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Finished _what_?"

"You _know_ what," he replied stonily, knowing what her answer was likely to have been, "this can't keep _happening_, Jess."

She rolled her eyes up at the ceiling.

"And don't think I won't mention this to your mum. It's been going on long enough and I'm not going to hold back any more just 'cause you're the head's _daughter_."

She gave him an incredulous look. "So that _is _why you haven't said anything to her."

"Who said anything about _that_?"

"Doesn't matter," she got ready to go, "go ahead and tell her if that's what you want."

He quickly emerged from behind his desk and grabbed her arm before she had a chance to open the door. "So now you think that's what I _want_ – to go to your mum and explain to her that you've been performing badly?"

Jess glared at him. "_Isn't _it?"

"No," Chris's eyes took on an uncharacteristically icier appearance, "that isn't what I want. And I'm taking it that _Vicki _had said words to that effect." He removed her from his grip.

She didn't know what to say, and stayed where she was.

"So have you got a valid reason for not doing what I asked of you?" He perched himself against the side of the nearest desk.

She shook her head dimly, and folded her arms across her chest.

He could vaguely make out a stain of red under her shirt's sleeve, and he came closer to her. "Jess, have you hurt yourself?"


	4. Chapter 4

Jess realised Chris had noticed the blood had escaped from the bandage after she'd applied it. It'd stopped and started to dry, but it wasn't unnoticeable.  
>"It's nothing," she hastily lied, "I had a small accident the other day."<p>

"It doesn't _look_ like nothing, it seems like it's been bleeding _heavily_." He took hold of her around her shoulders and made her sit down on the chair nearest to them. "Let me take a look."

"I-I don't want you to take the bandages off," the redhead placed her hands on his arm when he made to pull her shirt sleeve back so he could get a better look, "it might bleed again."

His eyes softened a little. "At least try and relax." He couldn't understand why she didn't want him to remove the bandages from the wound. If it had bled through the fabric and then dried, it would _surely_ have needed to be removed. "Did _you _bandage it?"

She closed her eyes and nodded. "Attempted to, anyway."

"We should get this sorted out _properly_," he supposed, "at least that way it can get disinfected and redressed."

Jess looked to him with horror. "Y-you said you wouldn't _do_ that."

"I never said I wouldn't, but it can't get left like this. It'll never heal quickly enough if we do _nothing_." Chris pointed out. "You _do _want this sorted, don't you?"

She nodded slowly.

"Then let me help you."

They got to the first aid room, and he carefully unwound the bandages from the injury.

She shot a hand down onto his, stopping his ministration. "I can't let you do it."

"You're going to _have_ to," he replied, "it's almost off and if it hurts, it isn't going to last. It'd be the same as taking off a plaster. You can trust me, right?"

"I do _trust _you," she realised his expression became more worried, "but I don't want you to think anything of me."

"Why would I think anything of you?" He felt her grip loosen on him. "I've almost taken it off…I'm not going to _stop_."

Jess reluctantly let Chris continue, and he effortlessly removed the dressing that had stuck to her. She quickly looked away, not wanting to know what the wound looked like or what his expression was likely to be once he twigged what had actually gone on.

"How did you say you did this?" His voice came out blank.

"I-I didn't…"

"Can't you at least _remember_?"

"I was _drunk _that night," she lied almost perfectly, "I guess I slipped."

"Well, it's been bleeding too heavily for that, and it doesn't even _look_ like anything that would've resulted from a _slip_, Jess."

She swallowed hard, but still refused to look at him. She started to think he should've given up his day job and worked as a _doctor_. Although, she knew it was more common sense on his part than anything else to know what it _really _was.

"To me," he continued despite her silence, "it looks like you've _cut _it."

"I could've cut it on the _pavement _as I slipped though." She protested pointlessly.

"That's fairly likely and I wouldn't rule that out, but you would've had to have fallen on something sharp to get that extent of a wound." He had her nailed and he knew she was refusing to accept it. "Come on now, enough fibs. Are you going to tell me how this _really _happened?"

"Why should I have to explain myself to _you_?" Jess suddenly demanded to know, her voice becoming more defensive. "I just want you to do whatever it was you were _going _to."

"I _am _going to," Chris pulled on her wrist to get her to look at him, "but I need you to co operate as well. This isn't a one-way thing."

She slowly cast her gaze to him, seeing that he _was _in actual fact, outwardly worried.

"Jess, I wanna know if this wound was done _intentionally_ – that you _meant _to have done it."

She lowered her gaze to the floor.

"I won't think any less of you if you _had_, but I'm finding it hard to see that this has come about _accidentally_. And lying about it just makes it worse. It doesn't make it any better and it could've gotten much worse than this. You could've bled to death."

She felt a wave of nausea sink into the pit of her stomach. It was a stark thing to have been told, but she knew he was right. "What do you want me to do?"

"All I want is for you to tell me the truth."

Jess shook her head dimly. "I-I don't want anyone to know…"

"No one will know." Chris reassured her. "The only person who will is I. And you can get _help _for this – I can get you that help with no problems and it can all be done in confidence. I think that's better than having to cover all of this up, 'cause I can see it turning into a major issue."

"Ok," she drew in a small sigh, "I _did _mean to do it." As soon as she'd said that, she felt a small surge of relief wash over her. She relaxed a little more and wasn't even aware that he'd already disinfected her cut.

"So how did that feel?"

"How did _what _feel?" She frowned, watching him meticulously redress the wound with fresh bandages.

"Telling the truth."

"A _lot _better." She felt better in looking at him. He didn't seem as worried, but the concern was possibly well hidden.

"You've done the _hardest _bit in admitting the self-harm," he explained, "and what you've done is so heavily stigmatised that I'm not surprised you wanted to cover it up."

"I didn't _wanna _cover it up," she admitted, "but I felt like it was the only way so I could carry on with it."

Chris finished bandaging her arm. "So you mean to say you wanted it to get worse?"

"Not so much get worse, but…" Jess watched him tilt his head attentively. "It's just that when I get angry with myself or anyone, I just…wanna do it. And when I do, the bad feelings go away. It's hard to explain."

"So you're using it as an outlet," he supposed, "you don't feel like you can express your anger any other way, but with that."

She nodded slowly. "Does that sound…weird to you?"

"Not really," he threw the used bandage away, "I mean people have different ways of expressing their anger, and that way was what seemed to work for you. You weren't intending on _killing _yourself, but it's a way that stops you from losing it."

"So you understand why I did it."

"I _do_ understand, Jess," he looked to her carefully, "but that doesn't mean nothing should be _done _about it. There are more painless and less extreme ways of dealing with anger, and what you're doing has to stop before you unintentionally make it worse."

"O-ok," she agreed, "but I don't wanna feel like I'm some sort of mental case by going for help."

"You are _not _a mental case," Chris asserted, "and people who do things like this aren't either. You're seeking help for it, and once you've had a few sessions you'll start feeling better."

"I just…don't wanna go to a hospital."

"Relax, they won't be keeping you in if they feel you're not a _threat_ to anyone." He reassuringly stated. "You'll have the _sessions _at a hospital and you'll have people around to make sure nothing goes wrong. You'll be ok, trust me."

Jess still wasn't a hundred per cent sure. "B-but people will know something's not right. And my _mum_ might know. I don't want _her _to find out."

"I can't stress this enough – no one will know of this. You can have the sessions during school hours. That way your brother, sister or mum won't twig why you're home late. I wanna make this work for you."

She felt his hand tighten its grip on her wrist, and he wasn't planning on letting her go. Did he still…no, of course not. He was just being _friendly_. "I-I don't see why you're doing this for me."

"'Cause I know how hard it can be for someone to open up about their feelings. If not for the fact that I'm _worried _about what'll happen to you if you don't get help."

There was so much more she wanted to tell him, as she felt she hadn't given him the full picture. She felt _other _things as well as anger and so maybe it was something he couldn't help her with for once. She realised the time was fast approaching lunchtime, and she got up from the chair that was the other side of the one he was sitting on. "I-I should go." She shakily told him. "I have to meet Vicki."

Chris looked to her steadily. "Look after yourself, ok? I'll try and talk to someone at the hospital so you can start getting help for this."

She nodded slowly. "Thank you."

He got up from his chair, and thought for a few minutes. There was _still_ something Jess wasn't being a hundred per cent truthful with. She seemed as though she was hiding something, for what reason he wasn't sure, but it was something he couldn't ignore.  
>The only other person who'd <em>probably <em>know anything would've been _Vicki_. After all, the two of them were best mates and it'd seem logical that she would've confided in her about _everything_ – maybe _most _things – including what she'd been doing to herself.

It was worth a shot, at least.


	5. Chapter 5

Chris presently found Vicki hanging about in the corridors. He knew why she was there, as she was quite possibly waiting to meet up with Jess.

She came over a little concerned at him coming over to her. "I _did _do it this time." She told him shakily.

"Did what?"

"Y-you know…that assignment you wanted me to finish."

"Oh," he took on a more pensive stance, "it wasn't about that, actually. There was something else I wanna talk to you about."

She raised an eyebrow at what it was he could've wanted her for. "O-ok…but can it wait? It _is _lunchtime, after all."

"Ok," he reluctantly agreed, "you come and see me straight after. It isn't something I wanna put off for too long."

As soon as he'd gone off, Jess came up to her. "What did he want?"

Vicki shrugged. "Don't know. I shouldn't worry about it."

"Was it about _me_?"

"I _don't know_." She stated more firmly. "Let's not worry about it for now. And if it were about _you_, he'd have gone to your _mum_."

****

Halfway through the lunch hour, Chris heard a knock on his door. He stopped whatever it was he was marking and peered up to see Vicki slowly come in. "It _is _still lunchtime, you know."

"I should be telling you the same thing." She teased, noticing he hadn't stopped for the whole half an hour.

He smiled a little. "I guess you've got me there." He set his pen down, emerged from behind his desk and went over to her. He was glad she loosened up a little as he felt sure that he'd rattled her earlier on by the way he came up to her. "Don't think you're in any trouble, 'cause you're not."

"I was going to _say_," she slid behind the first lot of desks, "you came across that way earlier."

"I know," he admitted, "but there are things I wanna clear up and I feel you're the best person to talk to about this."

She shrugged. "Ok…"

He folded his arms across his chest. "You and Jess…you two see each other outside of school, I take it?"

Vicki nodded.

"Don't worry," Chris went on, "whatever you tell me I won't mention to anyone. This is for my own benefit."

She frowned. "You think Jess is in some sort of trouble?"

He didn't want to give her a firm answer, and to him it was neither a yes or a no. "I just wanna ask you some questions, that's all, but I want you to answer them honestly."

"S-sure."

"Has she been behaving strangely when you've been with her?"

"What sort of behaviour would you say was _strange_?"

He shrugged. "You tell me."

She had to think. "None of Jess's behaviour is _strange_, as such. She does flit from one emotion to the next. I'm guessing that the mood swings she gets are _normal_."

He snapped to when she said that. "When do you notice she gets these?"

"Whenever." She replied. "Most of the time when we're on nights out together. Sometimes it doesn't matter whether she's had a few or none at all."

He frowned a little. That didn't sound right. And the details Vicki had given to him didn't suggest behaviour of a _depressed_ person – it suggested a more deeply _agitated_ one. He drew in a small sigh. "And that's all you can really _say _about the way she's been lately?"

"She's been getting _snappier. _I know she gets like that anyway, but she's been like it more often."

"…Snappy enough to make you feel that it isn't _normal_?" He assumed.

Vicki nodded slowly. "I worry about her sometimes."

"Well, I'm keeping a close eye on her at the moment, but I don't want her to know that I've asked you for corroboration. I don't know how she'll react and especially when I've gone through a _mate _of hers."

"I won't tell."

He smiled a little. "I trust you not to say anything, and I wanted to make you aware. If she does anything you're worried about, please come straight back to me, ok?"

She came over more worried. "O-ok."

After school, Clara waited patiently for Chris to emerge from his room. Realising he hadn't come out, she came in to see him still perched behind his desk. "Y-you're not staying on late…are you?"

He jolted in surprise at seeing her enter.

"The time," she explained, looking to him more worriedly, "it's gone ten to four."

"Oh." Like a shot, he got up from his chair. "I didn't realise." He wasn't doing anything run of the mill like marking. He'd spent the past hour and a bit trying to think up a way of how to best deal with a depressed if not agitated student. He'd seen his fair share of them, but there was no telling what Jess was likely to do.

"It shouldn't be work time for _you_ anymore," she teased, unaware of him hiding what he'd been writing and quickly shoving it away, "it's _our _time now."

He smirked a little. He knew she was right. They were soon to be moving away, just so the two of them could spend all the time in the world together. Why should _he _be worrying about work? "So what do you feel like eating?"

Clara shrugged. "I don't really mind." Her voice came out slow and wheedling, as if she was saying that she knew what she wanted and she hoped that Chris knew what it was.

His bright, blue orbs regained that playful spark at her teasing. "I should've known you wanted _that_."

"Wanted _what _exactly, dad?"

"You know full _well_ what," he let her get out of the room first before he got out to lock the door.

"Only if _you _felt like it…" She peered down at the floor before casting her gaze back to him impishly.

"Well, yeah…" He supposed. "Though I'd rather wait till it was a Friday night. And we can't keep living off things like that, 'cause it isn't good."

"Please?" She pleaded. "Just for tonight?"

He drew in a small sigh. "Ok."

All through the drive to the takeaway place, Clara couldn't help but think that something was bothering her father.  
>They hadn't had any real issues with each other, but he was hardly in the right disposition to want to talk.<p>

When they pulled up outside, he made to get out of the car but was stopped by her hand grasping him by his jacket's sleeve.

"Everything's ok, isn't it, dad?" She didn't like it when he got quiet and thoughtful, as it didn't make her feel particularly safe.

Chris looked to her intense green eyes, which were filled with concern for him. He knew full well he didn't feel right, and he felt even worse when she'd tapped into his emotions. He smiled a little. "Sure it is. I won't be long, ok?" And after feeling her grip on him loosen, he got out and was gone.

She remained in the passenger seat of the car, not entirely believing him when he said everything was fine. She knew he was hiding his emotions, which more often than not was something he wasn't used to. And there were telltale signs to his fibbing, such as his eyes wanting to quickly dart away from her or squirming ever so slightly in his position.

They both got into the flat after driving back, and he almost jumped a foot in the air when she slid up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"What's all this for then?" He asked almost teasingly, inwardly feeling better at the contact.

"Just wanted to hug you." She nuzzled her face into his back, taking in his familiarly sweet musky scent and wishing she could've stayed there all night. He was so warm and soft.

He smirked to himself and he turned himself round to face her once he'd set the takeout down to one side. He placed his hands on her shoulders, squeezing her there in order to ease the anxiety he knew she still had within her.

"I love you." Clara buried her nose into the front of his body, into his t-shirt. "You know that, don't you?"

"You _know_ I do," Chris placed a hand on her head, sliding his index finger through the sleek long strands of her hair, "and you know that _I_ love _you_." He wasn't at all sure what had brought on all this affectionate behaviour, but he wasn't _disliking_ it – their relationship had been _thriving _on contact such as that and that was what had made it what it was.

"Then why are you lying to me?"

"_Lying_ to you?" He took off his jacket once she'd unwrapped her arms around him. "I could _never_ lie to you. You're my daughter and I _love _you."

"Then why did you not wanna talk to me in the car?"

"Well," he went back to setting the takeout out, "I've got things on my mind, but they're things I don't wanna worry _you _about."

"Why not?" She felt awful at the fact that he _was_ bothered about something and felt unable to tell her. "You're my _dad_. You should feel like you wanna talk to me about _anything_."

"But what's on my mind is about _work_, and I know that now isn't the time to worry about it but I _am_."

"Why?" Clara demanded to know, helping to get two plates out, if not trying to get him to talk more. "I know I may not know a lot about what goes on in your job, but you're worried and I wanna make you feel better."

"I-I don't know if I should _tell_ you," Chris admitted, "what I'm worried about consists of serious _issues_, and I'm worried I'll _upset_ you."

"How about after we eat then?" She suggested. "Is that going to be any better?"

He felt awful. He didn't want to refuse her offer of a talk, as he felt extremely burdened. He couldn't say no, as that would only have deepened her anxiety all the more or possibly offend her as he would be turning down her offer of help. "Ok," he supposed after a few seconds of thought.


	6. Chapter 6

Once both of them had eaten, Chris took both his and Clara's empty plates.

"So you feel ok to talk now?" She looked to him, feeling a little more relieved at noticing he seemed to be a lot more relaxed.

"I feel _better _wanting to talk now." He corrected. "I still would've wanted to even if I didn't feel any better, but…you've got to understand that what I'm going to say relates to really serious issues and I don't wanna upset you."

"Dad…" Clara placed a hand on Chris's nearest arm. "I'm not a little girl. It's ok. You won't upset me with whatever you say."

He smiled a little more, outwardly thankful at her reassurance.

"One of your students has been giving you trouble, haven't they?" She supposed from his lack of dialogue.

"Not so much been _giving_ me trouble, but…" He shifted himself about in his position beside her, something he had a tendency to do when he felt awkward. "She's been _in _trouble."

She tilted her head at his answer.

"She's in some form of distress." He didn't feel at all comfortable at explaining to Clara. He shouldn't even be _thinking _about Jess's situation so late at night when he should be spending time with his own daughter.

"Don't think I won't understand, 'cause I _can_ and I'll _try_." She squeezed the arm she still grasped hold of, knowing his thought process. She knew he had her down as someone with limited experience, but what was going on with him was something he could not explain to anyone else. "Talk some more…it'll help."

"I can't," Chris looked to her hopelessly, "I just can't tell you 'cause I'll _hurt _you."

"No. Don't think that. Who else were you going to talk to about this?" When he didn't answer, she continued. "My point exactly."

He drew in a small sigh and cast his gaze to the floor in a petulant way. To Clara, it only came off as cute, as it was an uncharacteristic emotion for him to express.  
>"One of the girls is really upset, and I have to work out why and how badly it's affecting her."<p>

"That should be down to a _doctor_, dad," she looked to him softly, "not _you_." She knew he was _hardly _qualified to know anything about a person's state of health, but she could understand his compassionate attitude towards others. After all, that certainly showed when he took her in before knowing who she was.

"But when her condition affects her at school, it has be down to people in _my_position to make sure she gets help." He explained. "And especially if she's likely to do anything more extreme."

"M-more extreme like _what_?" Clara wanted to know, moving her hand from his slender arm to his wrist. She caressed the silky skin at its joint, finding that her touch was helping him to relax.

"More extreme like making herself _sick_." He bluntly replied, his answer prompting her to jolt in surprise. He felt even more weighed down after telling her, for fear that he'd actually gone and planted disturbing thoughts into her head.

"I'm sorry," she softly stated, inching closer to him and placing her other hand on his back, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to keep pushing you to tell me, but you were getting so worked up and I wanted to make you feel better."

"I should never have told you about any of this. _I'm _the one who should be sorry, not you."

Clara could tell that every pore in his body had weighed him down, and it was something she didn't like to see. She went to bed and slipped in amongst the blankets, and he perched beside her. "Did I upset you?"

He shook his head softly. "I don't like admitting I get worked up and when I do, I wanna keep it to myself. That's what I've _always _done."

"Well, that's not exactly _good _for you." She placed her hands on his shoulders, squeezing them to work the tension free. "You need your sleep too."

He knew she was right, and he wrapped his arms around her as she'd sat up in bed and threw hers around his neck. "Thanks for wanting to help."

"Don't mention it." She buried her nose in his dark hair, taking in a freshly musky scent.

Chris drew in a deep sigh, feeling his ribs ache. The pain faded away when he pressed his lips to the top of her head. "I love you."

She raked her fingers through a few of his dark strands. "I love you too." She felt warm and fuzzy at him setting her down in the blankets and she cupped his face as he leant over her. "I feel so lucky to have you."

Warm buzzes sank into the pit of his stomach at her touch, and he swallowed hard. "And I feel so lucky to have _you_," he pressed his lips to her forehead.

Her eyelids fluttered sleepily from his affectionate ministrations and she giggled a little at him twirling her sleek hair around his fingers.

He admired the way the shimmering strands scattered themselves over her pillow, and it was something he found _breathtaking_. "Sleep well now."

She watched him go to the door and she could make out his slender body within the shadows.

"I know your eyes are still open, young lady," he teased, "go to sleep now. I won't tell you again."

She cutely pouted as he carefully kept the door ajar.  
>It didn't take her long to give in to the sleepy feelings and fall into a deep sleep.<p>

****

The next morning.  
>Clara crashed awake, feeling her head pound. And her <em>eyes<em>…they felt so heavy and sore.  
>She peered over at the time, realising she'd overslept. She was meant to have gotten up the same time as Chris, which was seven o' clock.<p>

"You up yet, love?" He peered around her door, which was in the same position as it was the night before. A concerned expression formed on his face when he noticed she was still in bed.  
>Most people in his position would've kicked up a fuss about their own daughter not getting up for school, but lately she'd been <em>enjoying <em>going to her sets.

"I don't feel good."

"You don't feel good?" He reiterated, coming into her room and perching next to her on the bed. A frown adorned his features, as he looked her over. To him, she looked otherwise ok, but a quick check with a thermometer would've alleviated any fears.

He softly pressed a hand to her forehead. "You look a little flushed…I hope you're not getting a fever."

Clara shivered a little and watched him disappear out of the room and come back in with a thermometer. She allowed him to slip it into her mouth whilst he preened her through the ends of her hair reassuringly.

Chris carefully removed the thermometer from her and took in the reading. "I don't think you should be in today, you're not well."

He knew something was up when she didn't get up at the same time as him. That was something no one else but him would've picked up on, she _never _overslept on a weekday and he always made sure she went to bed early enough so she could get enough sleep. No one would've been able to predict her getting poorly.

"But I won't be in for a whole day, dad."

"I don't think one day of being off sick will leave much of a black mark on your record." He smirked. "I'll get you some water, ok? Then you should try and get some sleep."

Chris went straight to his room once he'd gotten in to work and heavily sat down behind his desk. He still had no idea how to deal with Jess. He promised her he'd get hold of some support services at the hospital, but he hadn't so much as _attempted _that.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when his door opened. He was surprised to see the redhead in question standing in the doorway. "Oh," he breathed, half in shock and half in displeasure. He didn't want her to be there – at least not till he worked out how to _help _her.

"Sorry," she softly apologised, "I didn't mean to startle you."

"That's ok," he sat back in his chair, "you wanted to talk to me?"

She stood by his desk with an anxious expression forming on her face. "Did you manage to speak to anyone?"

"Jess, I'm so sorry…I just haven't had time to call the hospital. I'll call them for you later this morning, I promise you."

She came over more tearful. "I wanna get this sorted."

"So do I, but you have to understand that me doing things like this is not part of my day job." Chris protested.

"But it's like you don't _care _about what happens to me."

"I _do _care about what happens to you," he replied, "but this is a two-way thing. You can't keep expecting me to do everything for you."

"So why haven't you _spoke _to anyone?" The redhead placed her hands on her hips.

"I've already _explained _to you," he saw her roll her eyes up at the ceiling, "and don't think what I'm doing isn't good enough."

Jess shook her head. "It's fairly obvious that what you're doing isn't."

"Ok," he crossed his arms over his chest, "would you _rather _I go to your mum and tell her everything? If you think you might get better help that way."

She drew in a shaky sigh. She knew she had to accept that what he was offering to do for her was something _outside _of his normal job. She had to give him more breathing space and from what he'd said she clearly wasn't doing so. "No…I guess you're right. I know what she's likely to do."

Chris came over more concerned. "And what exactly is that?"

She shook her head sadly. "I guess she might disown me."

"No," he leant further forward over his desk, "why do you think that? You need _help_, Jess, that's all. I don't think she could _ever _go to that extreme."

"I wanna get this sorted." She admitted anxiously.

"I know you do, but even if I _were_ to get hold of someone, that _still _would've taken some time." He replied. "It's not exactly quick and simple to just go up there and get seen to, you're more than likely going to be added to a waiting list. Unless you're putting yourself at risk, then they wouldn't treat you as an urgent case, see."

She nodded sadly. "But when you _do _manage to get hold of someone, you'd let me know, right?"

"Sure."

She seemed a _little_ bit better. "Ok." She left the room, leaving him slightly pensive.


	7. Chapter 7

Clara couldn't cope on her own all through the day.  
>She remained huddled up in bed, so she'd done what her dad had told her to. She just couldn't shake off the feeling that something…wasn't up.<p>

She felt – well, she couldn't describe it. She felt afraid. And anxious. Why the heck did she feel so wound up?

Although…taking some tablets would probably help to ease the wound up feelings she had. She didn't suffer any feelings of nausea or was in absolute pain, but mental pain – surely _that _was covered when taking painkillers of any sort?

Not fully knowing the answer to that, Clara decided that yes, painkillers were always an option.  
>Knowing that Chris omitted to leave any out for her, she got reasonably dressed to get some heavy-acting ones herself.<p>

She got to the nearest chemist, where she asked for the strongest tablets she could get over the counter.

The cashier looked to her doubtfully. "Are you sure you're old enough to buy things like this?" She wanted to know. It was more a rhetorical question in itself, and so she allowed her to have them with no questions asked.

****

After he finished for that day, Chris went straight back to his flat and went straight to where Clara was resting. There was just one problem – she wasn't where he left her.  
>He couldn't help but find that odd. He knew that if he told her to stay in bed, then that was what she'd do. She wasn't the sort to go against him.<p>

He realised he didn't have to look much further as he opened the door to the bathroom and came across something that would be forever fixed into his memory.

She was unconscious and lying curled up on the floor. To him, it seemed as though she'd collapsed on the spot and he wished that he were there before it happened so he could've maybe stopped it.

She was still in her camisole she wore whilst in bed but he was past caring if she were nude – his daughter was _in trouble_. He bent down and lifted her into his arms. Keeping her head against his chest, he softly swept a few fallen bangs away from her eyes. If only he knew what'd happened.  
>That'd have to be the doctors' job.<br>Realising that she'd be better off getting emergency attention, he got her in the back of his car and sped off to the hospital.

****

Chris remained in the waiting room of the Accident and Emergency ward for what seemed like _hours_, but had in fact only been three-quarters of an hour. He hadn't noticed that Clara had been in the ward for that amount of time, but it was as good as that as the staff had taken her from him as soon as he arrived with her.  
>She must've been in a bad way for that to happen.<p>

Eventually a nurse came out and went to him. "She's stable for now if you want to see her."

He allowed her to take him to the bed in which Clara was put in. She wasn't conscious, but she had an IV line in each wrist and was wrapped up warmly in the blankets.

"Is she not awake yet?" He asked the nurse when she checked her IV levels.

"Not yet," she softly smiled, "but don't worry, it won't take her long to come round. Give her a bit of time."

Within half an hour, Clara's eyes flew open and she felt that she couldn't move. She found herself lying down on her back and pinned with blankets, and she looked to see Chris sitting next to her. "Oh no," she mumbled hazily, casting her gaze to the white ceiling.

"How do you feel?"

"I've been _better_." She managed to sit up in bed.

He smiled a little to himself, although she couldn't work out why. "What happened?"

"I don't know," her answer prompted a frown from him, "I just…zoned out, I guess."

"'Zoned out'?"

"Well…yeah. Passed out."

"You could've fooled _me_," he wryly stated, "I came back from work and found you like that."

"I didn't mean to take them, but I felt worse and I thought that they might help."

"I don't understand," he leant closer towards her, "what was it you took?"

"I took some painkillers whilst you were out, " she explained, "I didn't feel like I was fully ok."

He frowned a little more. "I didn't leave any out for you unless you were rifling around for them."

"I went out to get them." She went on. "I didn't expect them to make me feel or do things like this."

Chris said nothing for a few seconds.

It was silence Clara didn't like, and she knew that silence coming from him was not a good sign. She felt the tears come. "Dad, I didn't mean to make myself ill."

"But you _did_, whether you meant it or not." He retorted. "It's bad enough having to listen to cases like this in my day job on top of having to hear it in situations like this."

She noticed his body language become more fraught and tense, and she felt a wave of guilt crash over her at the way she'd made him feel.

"You should've known better than to medicate yourself like that," he went on, "you shouldn't have touched them, let alone _bought _them."

"I told you I didn't mean to do it." She reiterated. "I took the normal dosage as it had stated."

"But they're extremely _powerful_." He noted. "Even more so when you take them on an empty stomach. You reacted the way you did to them 'cause they have _sedative_ properties – in other words they make you _drowsy_. That was why you'd passed out when I found you."

"Dad, I'm so sorry…"

He drew in a short sigh. It'd take some time for him to forgive her for what she'd done. "I-I got so worried. I thought that what was making you sick had gotten worse…I wasn't expecting to come back a-and find you like that."

Clara made to take hold of Chris's arm nearest to her, but he must've sensed what she was trying to do and shot up out of the chair he was sitting on in response. That was probably his way of being as blunt as he could about refusing contact or gestures of affection.

She was well aware that he didn't really know what to say to her or how he felt, but at the same time she was suffering and he didn't even seem to want to have time to let her talk. It seemed to him that it was a case of stupidity on her part, but why would she have done it if she knew the risks?

"Please realise I'm sorry."

He cast his gaze down at the floor, refusing to give her any eye contact. "I know you are." He felt his breaths come shakier, and he knew it must've been from sheer shock at realising everything that had gone on.

She came over more upset at his unresponsiveness. "I felt so bad."

"What exactly warranted you to take such strong medication?" He bluntly came out with. "Did you feel sick? Were you in pain?"

"I felt hot," Clara squeezed his arm slightly after she managed to grasp it that time, "and ill. Just…you know how you feel sometimes, when you don't feel a hundred per cent."

"I don't know what more to suggest." Chris admitted. "Maybe you should get looked at."

She loosened her grip on him. "B-but I wanna go home…with you."

"They won't let you, you know that." He replied weakly. "When they see you've come round they'll start carrying out tests. _I _wanna know what's made you feel sick and so do they. You can't keep taking medication if no one knows what you've got."

She came over silent, as the doctor came over to them.

"Ah, Clara," he noted, "awake, I see."

"She didn't overdose." Her father explained loosely.

"Oh. No, we've ruled that out, don't worry," he reassured him, "we took some blood from her for testing."

A wave of relief crashed over them.

"Something else came up, however."

He looked to him shakily. "W-what came up, exactly?"

The doctor looked at him and then at his daughter. "Clara has rheumatism." He replied steadily. "Her blood contains the rheumatoid factor."

"That doesn't make any sense," Chris dimly stated, "she's not even twenty and she's very fit for her age. And it'd have to be inherited."

"That's the thing," he went on. "She has the juvenile form of rheumatism and patients younger than her can get it, even active ones."

"The only thing I can think of," he looked to Clara slowly, "is if she acquired it from her _mum_. _I_ don't have it and no one I'm related to does or ever _did_."

He smiled softly. "We'd like to keep her in for a few days just so that we can get her started on medication – anti-rheumatics. We'll need to take some more blood from her and conduct a few more tests, but we'll be able to let her go soon."

He nodded carefully, before turning back to her. "I'm going to come back tomorrow, ok? I promise." He placed a hand on her arm and squeezed it. He didn't like hospitals, and what made it worse was that he was going to be apart from her for a few days.

"Please stay for a little bit," she pleaded with him, "please…I don't wanna be alone."

"You're going to be ok here. They'll give you something to make you feel better." He took hold of her hand and squeezed it. "You do what they tell you to."

She watched him leave the ward, and she knew that he was inhibiting his normally paternal feelings for her. And she knew why – she really _was_ unwell, and it was something they were going to have to work around.


	8. Chapter 8

Clara remained awake in bed on her ward that night. How could she even contemplate sleep?  
>The nurses had been pestering her to go to sleep whenever they passed her during their rounds, but she couldn't even go as far as to close her eyes.<p>

She knew she'd hurt him by knocking herself out and potentially harming herself, but what else could she have done? She didn't feel well. And it was then that she, and everyone else, knew why.

God did her arm hurt. The phlebotomist must've removed a couple of pints of blood from her as she used a big enough needle – that on top of sensing a perpetual sting in between her legs from having a catheter. The doctor did explain to her that they wanted to monitor how well her kidneys were flushing out the medication they were going to put her on.

The next morning, she woke up to find that a doctor was standing by her bed. She shrunk back against the headboard, knowing full well why he was there.

"Morning, Clara."

She swallowed hard at how friendly he sounded, but it didn't make her relax.

"How do you feel?"

She shivered a little when he placed a hand over her forehead and swept a few stray bangs back. It was _Chris's _job to do fatherly things like that.

"Still not feeling a hundred per cent, are we?" He assumed. He proceeded to carry out a mental assessment on her, just so she was aware of where she was and what the date and time was, which she did no problem.

Clara felt relieved when he pulled away from her. The vague scent of antiseptic was becoming overpowering, even for her. "I don't _feel _any better."

He smiled softly. "Well, I can put you on some medication that'll make that all go away."

"No," she dimly stated, "no more tablets…"

"These will stop the aches and pains." The doctor fished out the small box of tablets that he had in his jacket pocket. "They work very quickly and you don't have to take very many in one day. Your dad is still aware that you need to be kept in for another day or so, so that we can make sure these are working for you and then we'll let you go."

"What about what I took yesterday?"

He smiled slightly. "You've got nothing to worry about the tablets you took. The tests have come back fine and they're out of your system. These ones won't affect them, as they're long gone."

"If I decide not to take them…then what?"

"There is no other treatment, Clara," the doctor replied. "It isn't as simple as an operation or a medication that can reverse what you've got. You need to take them else your joints will feel stiff, you'll ache more and you'll start getting very feverish."

She cast her gaze down at the blankets that were covering her. She didn't want to take any medication, she really didn't. But if it was the only way she'd feel truly better, then she more or less had no other option.

"When your dad comes back, we'll let him know how many you have to take and for how long." He went on. "For the moment we can put you on the intravenous medication to clear the little irritating aches you're getting and then we'll have to take you for a few scans."

She came over more worried. "S-scans of _what_?"

"Just your joints, honey, that's all." The doctor soothed. "You won't be taken very far and nothing bad will happen to you. You'll have a nurse with you and we can always give you something to help you relax."

"I'm frightened and I don't know why." Clara felt strange that she was dreading something as routine as a scan, but being in a hospital and to be told that she was actually very sick was _scaring _her.

"I know this all feels scary to you," he agreed, "and it's normal to feel that way. Get some sleep for now. The nurse will give you the medication and later we'll take you."

Chris spent most of his blank blocks pulling up anything he could find on Clara's condition. He still couldn't get over how she managed to get it and he could only think of it as unfortunate, however something was being done about it.

He quickly darted his gaze to his room's door, seeing Karen enter.

"So this is where you're hiding." She teased.

"I guess so."

She frowned at him being less than his perky self and she came nearer to him. "Everything ok?"

"Y-yeah. Fine." He went back to what he was reading, inwardly thankful that he didn't lose his place. "Why do you ask?"

"You don't _seem_ fine," she was standing literally a foot from him, "or _sound _it."

"Daughter's not very well." He eventually gave in. "She got admitted to hospital last night."

"Oh." She came over more weighed. "Oh…Chris, I'm sorry to hear that. Have you been to see her?"

"I saw her as they were settling her in," he replied slowly, "but I promised her I would see her later on tonight. They took a guess at her being in for another day or so."

Karen's eyes softened. "Did they say what's wrong?"

"She's got rheumatism," he explained. "I came back from work yesterday and she was…Karen, I thought she was dead. She wasn't moving and she wasn't breathing all that well. She'd taken some strong painkillers and they finished her off. They're starting her on some anti-rheumatic drugs at some point and then once they're working they'll let her go."

"You can always finish earlier today," she suggested, "if you think that'd help."

He looked at her dimly. "I shouldn't take any time off, not even for this."

"Don't talk silly," she smiled softly. "Your little girl needs you."

It had gotten very dark that night.  
>Chris drove the fairly short distance to the hospital, although he resented having to drive up the dual carriageway that the boy racers were using as the autobahn. He parked up in the hospital's car park and was taken to where Clara was being kept. He was relieved to see her sitting up in bed and looking better than she did the previous day.<p>

"So you'd done what they'd told you to then." He assumed, going over to her and sitting down next to the bed.

"What makes you say that?"

"'Cause you look better."

She smiled a little.

"What have they done?"

"They took a scan of all of my joints," she replied. "Just to see if what I've got is affecting anything else."

He noticed she was scratching a little at her arm, which had a bandage wrapped around it.

"They've injected me with so many needles," she stated.

He smirked to himself. "Yeah, they do tend to do a lot of that when you're in a place like this."

Clara smirked back. "Very funny."

"Have they got you on any medication yet?"

"That's what I'm here to tell you." The doctor's voice came from behind him, and he signalled for him to follow him into his office.

"Clara's getting on better now…isn't she?" Chris assumed. "She doesn't look as ill as before…"

"The anti-rheumatics we've given her are in an intravenous format." He explained. "The dosage remains the same as it would if we gave her tablets. The only difference is Clara's receiving them intermittently."

"She told me she was given a scan," he spoke carefully, "why was that?"

"It was simply to check for any other joints in her body that the arthritis may have affected." He stated. "There are signs of inflammation in her hips and her legs, and we may need to look to refer her for further assessment.

"With the medication, however, she only needs to take one daily, preferably after food. Once the dosage is over, ask for a repeat prescription the same day she finishes them. This keeps her going into a pattern."

"Do they take some time to work?"

"Not at all," the doctor replied. "These are quick, very fast-acting. And they'll clear all of the symptoms she has."

Once Chris was done talking to him, he was taken back over to Clara's bed, where she was getting helped to lie down. "So you've been ok without me?"

She nodded softly. "I can see _you_ haven't been ok without _me_," she was referring to his slightly dark eyes, which seemed to make him look as though he'd lost a bit of sleep.

"But I know you'll be better now." He took hold of her hand that wasn't hooked up to an IV line. "I didn't wanna come empty-handed, so I got you a few things before I left." He handed her a small carrier, which she thankfully took.

She rifled through it, looking to him with shimmering blue orbs, showing him that their energy had returned within them. "Thank you, dad."

"You're welcome." He leant further forward and kissed her on the top of her head. "I know you'll only be in here for another day, but I know how alone you're probably feeling when you're in hospital, especially during the night. I just wanted to give you something that'd help you relax."

She noticed he edged away from the bed slightly. "You're going now?"

"It's almost over for visiting hours," he noted apologetically, "but as soon as I know when you're able to go I'll be coming back up here – I _promise_."

Clara certainly felt more relaxed that night. She was happily listening to her music on the MP3 player that Chris had gotten hold of before he left the flat, keeping it at a reasonable volume so that she didn't wake any of the other patients who were already asleep.  
>The lights in the ward she was in were toned down to a soft dim, and the nurses still did their rounds to each bed.<p>

She closed her eyes and drew in a contented sigh. In spite of all the little hitches here and there, he _was_ a very good father to her, and she couldn't wait for them to move away and start someplace else _properly_.


	9. Chapter 9

Chris knew he should get himself into a better pattern with what he ate – after all, he was hardly setting a good example for Clara when she was coming back but he found it more worthwhile to get something ready made if it were just him.

He was sure he was starting to feel more and more weighed down from the amount of salt and fat he'd eaten over the past few days and he knew it wasn't good. He could only imagine the things his daughter would be saying to him had she have caught him at it.

Although sooner or later she would be coming out of hospital and they could go back to the way things were.

Clara drifted awake the following morning, becoming more and more aware of the sound of birds chirping in amongst the bare branches of the trees outside her window.

She rolled onto her back, enjoying the warm sunshine she could feel soak into the bed's blankets. She looked to see a few nurses flitting from bed to bed for their rounds.

A young, pretty nurse came to the foot of her bed. "How do you feel, Clara?"

"A lot better."

She nodded in agreement. "You _look _better," she replied. "Once you feel well enough to get up, I can take you to the shower and help you get dressed into some clean clothes before your dad comes to collect you."

As soon as he received the call from the hospital, Chris came into the ward and went straight to where Clara was being kept. He was extremely surprised to see her sitting up on the bed with her legs down the side of it. He thought he'd gone to the wrong bed at seeing how well she looked.

She beamed as he approached her, taking in mild amusement at his surprised expression. "Missed me?"

He swallowed hard, taking some time in drinking in her form. He couldn't get over it. "Y-you look better," he started. "So much better."

"I know," she stated, "and I _feel _it." She jumped off the bed with her regained energy and threw herself at him, prompting him to almost jump a foot back in surprise and have her throw her arms around his neck. He shyly wrapped his around her waist.

He relaxed a little more as she hugged him, closing his eyes and giving a bit more time for the paternal feelings to kick in again. Although they had only been apart for a few days, for both of them it felt like more.

"I missed you so much," she pressed her lips to his cheek, taking in that sweetly musky scent that lingered around him. "And now I just wanna come home with you."

"Ok, well, you can do that now." He replied dimly. "As long as we can clear that with your doctor."

****

Chris wasn't staying for long when he dropped Clara back home. He wanted to follow what the hospital had said on her discharge, suggesting that she stay off sick for a week to recover from being sedated during the scans and giving more time for the medication to work into her system.

"I don't know what the fuss is all about," she vaguely admitted. "I feel fine, so why can't I go back to school?"

"You know full well why." He replied, deciding not to joke. "They want you to rest and it isn't going to make me look good if I take you back there with me. I don't want anything else to happen to you."

"I'm off for one week and I'm going to be stuck in bed all day," she assumed.

"You're making it sound like I'm treating you like a prisoner." He replied. "I can't let you go outside 'cause you might get sick. You have to stay here…so I know where you are."

She drew in a small sigh.

"Look, I don't like being told to stay in bed when I feel otherwise ok, but they and I can't risk anything else happening to you. You want the medication to _work_, don't you?" When she nodded, he carried on. "Then the best thing for it to work would be to _do nothing_."

"I'll feel like I'm being lazy…"

"But you're _not_ being lazy." Chris sat next to her on the bed. "You're recovering. You've been through a lot of things over the past few days, and they're not exactly _minor_. You might feel ok now, but give it another day and that's when it might hit you more. You wouldn't be helping anyone or yourself by going against what they've told me."

"Ok," she slowly agreed. "If it means I'll get better."

"Good girl." He leant over and pressed his lips to her forehead. "Stay there and get some more sleep…I'm not working a full day so I'll be coming back a little earlier, ok?"

When he came back from only being in work for five hours, Chris went straight to Clara's room to see her still asleep.  
>He was relieved to see that she'd done what he told her to.<p>

She looked as though she was well rested, and he sat next to her on the bed so he could look at her. He was even more relieved to realise that what was going on with her was treatable and she seemed to be coping with it well. But then again she was quite a strong-minded girl for her age.

He leant forward to sweep a stray dark wisp of hair back from over a closed eye. She was nothing he imagined her to be after she told him, all those weeks ago, that she was his daughter.  
>He <em>had <em>thought about whom he fathered her with once or twice – that hadn't truly left him, but firstly it was natural and secondly he didn't know what the rift was doing to her, mentally.

It was something Clara hadn't thought of, and to him it looked as though she was better off not knowing any further. After all, he couldn't refute the fact that she was better placed with _him_ and not _her_ – whoever the mother was.

She softly stirred, and Chris couldn't help but find her movements cute.  
>"Dad…" She drowsily mumbled, her voice thick from sleep. Her eyelids fluttered a few times before she could open them.<br>He found it hard to believe how she even knew he was there, but she must've intuitively sensed his presence.

Her eyes flew open, fixing themselves straight onto his. "You weren't gone long."

"Told you I'd be back earlier than usual," he smirked playfully, his body language certainly coming over more relaxed.

"So I haven't been asleep for long." She sat up in bed, surprised to find that she hadn't lost the strength in her arms.

"Bearing in mind that you as good as fell asleep after I left this morning, I'd say you had around six hours' sleep."

"I hope you weren't worrying about me since being at work all day."

"No," he replied loosely. "Not now I know you'll be ok. _Both _of us will be ok now."

She smiled to herself and threw her arms around his neck, surprising him at her action.

"I didn't know when you felt like eating, but I'm starting to feel a little empty."

Clara frowned. "Don't tell me you skipped lunch?"

"I didn't do that, no." As well as hearing his stomach rumble, he also _felt _it. He didn't know which was worse. "But I'm hungry again and if you felt like it as well…"

She tipped her head attentively.

"I could go and get something for both of us."

She wrapped her arms around herself, prompting a frown from him. "I don't know if I _feel _like eating yet."

"It'd still take some time for your appetite to come back," he rightly assumed. "The medication might be making you feel like that anyway."

"Maybe I need more sleep."

"Ok, then that's fine," Chris helped her to lie back down in bed although he knew she was more than capable of doing that herself. "Eat when you feel like it. The last thing I would wanna do is _force _you."

"Aren't you _worried _that I don't feel hungry?"

"It's just a side-effect," he replied slowly. "That's all it is. You had a lot done to you at the hospital as well, and being in a place like that is enough to make _anyone _feel poorly. It's fine, love. You can let me know when you feel more up to it."

She drew in a small sigh as he placed a hand against her forehead to check her body temperature.

"You still feel hot," he told her. "You want some water?"

Clara nodded faintly. "O-ok."

He vanished from her room and came back in no time with a glass of water. "It would take a short time for your body to adapt to the medication, so I shouldn't be expecting anything to happen just yet."

She did still feel sick, she had to admit.

"You wanna get some more sleep now?" He wanted to know.

She placed a hand on his wrist, taking in its silkiness with her thumb. "I don't know how well I'd be able to sleep tonight."

Chris frowned. "You've been through a lot over the past few days. I don't think you'd find it a _problem_."

She shook her head dimly. "I know I did sleep for a fair bit when you were gone, but I don't feel…you know…awake."

"You mean you slept _light_?"

She didn't seem sure. "I-I don't know. I guess so. I don't feel as though I've slept for however long I have."

"I think what you're trying to say is that you had a _light _sleep." He replied. "I can only assume you're still getting used to being at home again…"

"No," her voice sounded more worried. "I had a bad dream."

He swallowed hard. He really hoped that wasn't a side-effect from her medication. "Can you remember anything about it?"

Clara shivered as she thought back. "My mind's gone blank at the moment."

He didn't know what to say about that. He could only listen to what she was telling him and to consult a doctor if it continued or got worse. "You feel tired, though, right?"

"Really tired."

He placed his other hand on her arm and rubbed her there comfortingly. "It might be better if I leave you to sleep for tonight. I won't come in and wake you – maybe see how that goes."

Chris stayed awake in bed later that night. He'd been sitting up and staring straight ahead at the wall in front of him, unable to sleep from worrying about Clara. He knew things would settle, but he didn't know how long it was going to take.

He noticed a light coming from outside and his door opened a little more to reveal a small, slender-bodied figure in the doorway. His eyes took some time to adjust to the brightness and so all he could really do was squint, but he knew full well who it was.

"I can't sleep," came a dim, torpor-thick voice.

He inched over to one side of the bed. "Ok," he agreed, "get in."

She switched the light off from outside and closed his door. He was surprised that she managed to navigate in the dark and find out where he was.  
>She scrambled into his bed, feeling warm and fuzzy at him covering them both up in the blankets.<p>

"You feel better now?"

"Much better."

"Good," he flipped over onto his side with his back facing her. "Now get some sleep."

Clara could sense the tiredness in Chris's voice, and it was something she rarely heard from him. He was only ever like that when he flustered himself to the point of exhaustion, and it was obviously enough to keep him awake for so long. She knew full well the way he sounded wasn't because he was sharing his bed with her. "I'm sorry."

"Don't say sorry." He spoke tiredly. "You've had a rough time."

"But look at what this is doing to you." She placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing the bare yet warm flesh. "I'm making you worry."

"It'll take a week or so before everything goes back to normal." He went on, deciding to face her. "I'm just worried about the dreams you said you get."

"It was only one."

He slid closer to her and took her into a warm hug. It was contact she'd wanted from him for some time. "I don't want it to be a side-effect. The other things we could deal with, but if you're having problems with your sleep, I don't know how we could work around it without taking you off the medication."

She closed her eyes, taking in a small sigh at having his arms wrapped around her waist. She _loved _it when he hugged her because he held her flush against his body, allowing her to soak up his warmth. "We can only do so much about this, you know, dad."

"I know," he admitted, "but I don't want you to get sick again – especially not since we're moving."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a small kiss on his cheek. "We should sleep now."

Chris said nothing to her comment, but he knew she was right. He felt his eyes get heavier from being open in sheer darkness, if not for Clara's index finger sliding up and down his back.

"I love you, dad."

"I love you too."


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning, Clara awoke to find that the other side of the bed was unoccupied. All that was left was a small crease to indicate where Chris had slept the previous night.

She peered over to look at the time. It had gone eight-thirty, so he was long gone.  
>She was surprised she could sleep through all of the night and early morning, yet not even feel him get up to go or to hear him leave the flat.<p>

She sulked at not being able to tell him that she felt better – possibly better to go back to school. But she knew he would say no to that.

Chris was busy getting ready for his first set, so it was fair to say he was less than happy at seeing Clara enter his room. He immediately jumped out of his chair and went over to her. "What're you doing here?"

She shrugged. "I feel better."

"The doctors don't think so," he replied, "so back home and go back to bed."

"Can't I just see how I get on?"

"_No_." His voice came out stony and harsh. He had every reason to sound that way, as she disobeyed him. "What part of "no" do you not understand?"

"A week is too long for me to be off." She was surprised to feel his hand on the top of her arm, attempting to push her back out of his room to signal for her to go home.

"Then maybe we should explain that to the doctor when you go back for your follow-up," he assumed.

"Dad, please," she started firmly. She didn't want him to have his way with her, she really didn't. If she felt better, she was entitled to go back, surely? She turned to face him fully and after prising her arm free from his grip, put both of her hands on his wrists.

"I just want you to do as I tell you," Chris persisted. "I can't have you coming back here if you're still signed off sick, I love you too much to let that happen. If you don't do as I say I'll only drive you back home and _fix _you to the bed."

"Can't you just give me a chance?" Clara found it hard to believe that she was finding herself pleading with him. "At least let me stick it out…see how I get on?"

He drew in a small sigh.

She caressed the curves of the joints in his wrists, as they subtly poked through his flesh. She didn't want to worry him and that was not the reason why she came back. She wanted to clear his mind by going to him first and saying why she was there.

"Y-you scare me sometimes," he admitted carefully, "more so ever since you came out of hospital. I don't want you getting sick again, not now we're so close to moving away together. I can't risk any more hitches."

"With us, you mean?"

"With _anything_." He replied firmly. "I know what you've got can get quite nasty, but you're taking medication for it and I don't want you to fall out of sync with that."

"I won't let anything happen to me," she soothed, "I promise you."

"But it isn't up to you," the young male protested. "What's made you sick isn't something that can just go away or be fixed. It's _lifelong_and is made liveable with the medication. What if something happens?"

"You'll be here," she smiled softly. "You would know how to deal with it."

He looked to her dimly. "Ok," he eventually agreed. "I'll let you stay in school for now."

Her smile quickly turned into a beam.

"On one condition: The minute you don't feel good, I'm taking you straight home again." He added. "Doctors issue sick notes for a reason, you know."

Later on that morning, Janeece rushed into Chris's room. Lucky for her he wasn't in a set else he would've had a few things to say to her. "S-Sir, we've got a problem."

He peered up from what he was writing. It didn't happen to be anything major. "What's the problem?" He came over more worried when he saw how wide and frightened her eyes appeared. "Mrs Fisher not about?"

She shook her head dimly. "Th-that's the thing," she explained. "It _concerns _her. That's why I've come looking for you."

He quickly got up from his chair behind his desk. Whatever was going on couldn't be good.

Chris was taken outside the building, where a small crowd had congregated by the entrance's awning. They were looking straight up at something that appeared to be on the roof, and he felt his blood run cold at realising _Jess_was up there and had no intentions of coming back down.

Karen saw him come out and went straight over to him. "I don't think she's going to come down." Her voice was heard to have a small tremor within it. "Chris, what is she likely to do?"

He wasn't sure himself. "I don't know at this stage – I've never had to see something like this for myself." He looked to her worriedly. "You know what triggered this?"

She shook her head. "All I know is that first thing this morning she came storming into my room, asking me things like why I wasn't being a very good mother to her. I-I don't know what made her think that."

"Did she hit you?" When she didn't answer, he made her look straight at him. "I have to know if she hit you. If she did, then we're going to have to get someone to take her away."

"I can't let that happen," she slowly stated, "not to my own _daughter_."

"She would be causing a danger to others and herself if she has, you know," he went on. "And by letting it carry on isn't going to help."

She came over quiet, realising he had a valid point. She closed her eyes and nodded. "Sh-she _did _hit me a few times."

"Ok," Chris could understand why Karen refused to be honest with him and he couldn't blame her for doing so. If _Clara _had attacked him and threatened to jump off the school roof he probably would've covered up for her as well. "I'll go up there…try and talk her out of this."

"You _are_ kidding, aren't you?" She came over shocked. "She could attack _you _next – possibly even throw you off the roof."

"The worst thing anyone could do is to not try." He replied, going back inside. He knew how Jess managed to get up onto the roof and he _was _deadly serious at saying he was going to go to her.

Karen didn't know who she was more worried for, but she could only let him go. The last thing he would've wanted was for her or for anyone else to fuss over him.

It was bitterly cold on the building's roof, if not uncomfortable.  
>Jess didn't know for how much longer she could stay there, and she wasn't sure why she was there at all.<br>She heard a few noises behind her, and she was shocked to find that Chris had gotten to the roof from inside whilst attempting to keep a good balance on the sloped tiles.  
>"A-are you <em>crazy<em>?" She pointed out. "You'll _kill _yourself."

"Rather me than you, then," he replied, managing to perch next to her. "So you wanna explain to me why you're up here? And don't say it's 'cause you wanted some air."

She smirked to herself.

"I know why people do things like this, Jess," he went on. "Don't think I'm stupid."

She peered down at the increasing crowd.

"Or is this another way of getting attention?"

She drew in a small sigh. "So you don't understand either, I take it."

"I would if you tell me." His eyes came over soft and big. "I don't want you to throw yourself off this roof and I'm pretty sure _they_ don't either. What you're doing isn't thoughtless, but something's happened to make _this _happen."

She jumped when he placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it.

"And don't think I won't stop you."

Jess felt the tears come and she was hopeless to hold them back. Her eyes stung as they flowed and she swallowed back the sobs. "Have you ever had the feeling that your parents didn't _love _you?"

Chris darted his gaze to the tiles and then back to her. "There've been _times _when I have." He tipped his head attentively. "Something happened at home?"

She shook her head. "I saw you earlier."

"'Saw' me?" He reiterated. "I don't quite know what you're getting at."

"You and your daughter." She stated stonily, her voice dripping with mild envy.

"She hasn't been very well," he wanted to explain. "She didn't wanna spend all of this week in bed off sick so she wanted to come back. I didn't wanna let her and I was going to take her back home."

She smiled a little. "How sick was she?"

"_Very_." He admitted. "She's got a condition passed down from her mum and it can only be controlled with medication. At least _something _can be done about it, but in the long term it could get worse."

She nodded in acknowledgement. "I can see why you didn't want her to come back." She drew in a small sigh. "You must be a really good dad to her."

He shrugged. "There are times when we don't always get on," he stated. "But she means a lot to me – she's the only daughter I've got."

"I wish my mum treats me like how you treat _your _little girl."

"She's not someone who can show her feelings though." He explained. "And some people are like that. That doesn't mean she doesn't _love _you."

Jess felt the shivers and sobs grow less.

"I feel bad for not getting you help that sooner." He went on. "It wasn't as though I didn't _believe _you, but it's hard to sort that out with your mum not knowing."

"She _will _know now, won't she?"

He nodded slowly. "I'm afraid so," he admitted. "People don't climb out onto roofs for nothing."

"I wasn't going to do it," she looked to Chris dimly. "Jumping off, I meant."

"I know." He noted, taking hold of her wrist and pulling her back into the opening. After the window they climbed through was shut and locked back up, he was making no intention of letting her go just yet.

"I can't ignore what just happened and why," he stated. "You realise that, don't you?"

She nodded softly. "I need to _go _somewhere."

"I agree." He replied. "Your mum would wanna know why you did that, and then I'm going to get someone to take you away."

"Take me away to a _mental _place, you mean."

"No," he smirked playfully, "somewhere _nicer_."


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N - Hey thanks for following and favoriting this fic! Apologies for not expressing my gratitude much earlier but the computer I did upload this from wasn't all that good and I can only assume it failed to update for the site! Never mind!  
><em>  
><em>So yeah - enjoy and there'll be plenty more to come! I promise!<br>_  
><em>xXx<br>_  
>Chris waited patiently in his car for Clara to come out after the day was over.<br>Eventually she emerged, looking just as sunny as she did when she came to talk to him earlier that morning.  
>"Good to know you've made it through in one piece," he teased.<p>

She smirked at him wryly before taking her spot in the front of the car. She peered over at him, noticing a slight weary look to his eyes. "You look _tired_," she pointed out.

"Thanks for pointing that out, _mum_."

"You've done your bit in looking after me," she placed a hand on his arm, "now I should do my bit in looking after _you_."

"I can look after myself." He switched the ignition on. He peered straight through the windscreen at nothing in particular, which his daughter couldn't help but frown at.

"Maybe when we get home you should have a nap." She suggested.

He drove out of his spot and waited for a break in the traffic at the end of the junction. "I take it you didn't hear what'd gone on earlier," he assumed, preferring not to let her keep on smothering him.

Clara shook her head. "What happened?"

"That girl I talked to you about," Chris pulled out of the junction, "who I was trying to help."

She nodded in acknowledgement. "What about her?"

"She tried to jump off the school roof."

She gave a small gasp of shock. "That's…that's _terrible_." She felt a small stab in her chest at hearing that news. "I-is she ok?"

"Well, she's in a better place now," he replied, "I managed to talk her out of it, but I doubt she would've done it anyway. She had no one to talk to about how bad she felt and she wanted to hide it from her mum."

"I really feel for her," she stated softly. "To feel so alone and trapped must've left her in quite some pain."

"To have to deal with depressing and disturbing thoughts is _never_ easy for _anyone_ to open up about," he admitted. "On a more _positive _note, young lady…" He placed a hand on her wrist when they stopped at traffic lights.

She jumped at the contact.

"How about we get something to eat?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Clara felt a searing warmth cloud her thoughts. She leant forward in the passenger seat and pressed a hand to her forehead.

Chris frowned at the action. "You feeling ok, love?"

"I-I don't know," she slowly explained. "I _did _feel ok, and then my head started to feel…hot."

Her reply prompted his lowered eyebrows to lift in alarm, and he was thankful the lights changed to green. "Did you take your medication today?"

"_Sure _I did. You were there when I took it, remember?"

He swallowed hard, inwardly relieved that they'd reached their road and pulled up outside the flat. He placed a hand against her forehead, realising that she _was _very hot. "Maybe I should call a doctor out."

"Or give me a second dose," she suggested.

"No." He got out of the car and waited for her to get out. "Those tablets have to be taken just the once. Taking another might make you worse."

Her eyesight began to get more hazy and her head pounded from the sheer fever she was experiencing. "My eyesight's gone funny," she mumbled, blindly staggering to the flat's front door.

"We're almost in," he tried to reassure her. "I'll get you to bed as soon as we're in and then I'll get a doctor to look at you, ok?"

Clara's stomach began to feel knotted and tight, and she was sure that what she'd eaten for lunch was going to end up on the floor. The waves of nausea clustered in the pit of her tummy before moving up. "I don't feel too good…my tummy hurts." She couldn't stay standing any longer, and she fell into a feverish fit in her father's arms as he managed to catch her.

Chris lifted her off the floor, knowing that he had to get her to bed and call for a doctor. It was nothing _either _of them had done, so it was something they just couldn't control. He wasn't even sure if it was from the extent of her illness or if the medication wasn't helping her.

A doctor came straight out within minutes and he was let in to examine the poorly girl. She was still unconscious when he got there.

"She didn't feel good at all," Chris explained, watching him take out a stethoscope. "She said she felt hot and then her vision started to deteriorate."

He pressed the stethoscope to her chest before placing it against her tummy. "Did she fit?"

He swallowed hard. "W-well, she passed out. I guess that was a fit in itself." He watched him feel around her stomach before placing a thermometer in her mouth. "Does that mean something _happened_?"

"It's quite likely that Clara developed a hypersensitivity to the treatment," the doctor replied.

"B-but surely that takes more than a few days, doesn't it?"

"Maybe even sooner than that."

"S-so now what?" He asked, frightened. "Wouldn't that be it in terms of treatment?"

"There are other things Clara can take – gentler drugs. They won't be as harsh on her body but she will need to take them more than once a day."

"So the fitting is normal?" He assumed.

"For someone with a hypersensitivity to the medication, yes." The doctor replied. "I can discontinue the modifying drugs she was given at the hospital, as this is the reason behind her symptoms. Because she's fitted, I can give her a relaxant and then we should look at a safer medication."

Clara crashed back into consciousness with the force of a lorry. Her eyelids were heavy with sleep and her eyeballs immediately felt sore when the softly dimmed light from the lamp hit them.  
>"Urggh…" She mumbled as she tried to sit up in bed.<p>

Hearing her utterance from outside, Chris came into her room and helped her to sit up in bed. She wasn't going to be able to do that by herself after being injected with a muscle relaxant.

"W-what happened?" She asked, despite her tongue feeling a little heavy. She sounded as though she'd had a few root extractions and they'd packed her mouth with too much anaesthetic.

He smirked at how dazed she still sounded. "You got sick from the medication they gave you at the hospital," he explained, "so the doctor's put you on something else."

"Th-that was made me go so weird?"

He nodded slowly. "Unfortunately." He perched next to her on the bed. "How do you feel?"

"My head still feels cloudy but I can see ok now." She drew in a small breath. "I can't get over how a tablet made me _do _that. I felt so bad."

"It _was _pretty bad," he had to admit. "I thought you were going to get admitted back to the hospital again."

Clara heard her stomach rumble, and felt it reel slightly. "At least I don't feel sick now."

"No," he smirked, "but you feel something _else _instead."

"We didn't decide on what we were going to have, you know." She placed a hand on Chris's arm.

"So what did you feel like?"

She took some time to think. "Anything that's warm and filling," she replied.

"Ok," he agreed, "but _no takeaways_. Too many of them are _bad_ for us."

Soon enough, he came into her room with a hot plate of curry. "I took note of you wanting something warm and filling, so I figured this was the best option."

She thankfully took it from him, as he handed her a fork. "You know what I like."

He smiled playfully. "It isn't all about what you like," he noted. "That's full of stuff that'll help you get your strength back."

"Thank you, dad," she looked to him, noticing a slight exhaustion to his eyes, "you sure you didn't mind getting this?"

"_Sure_," he perched himself on her bed.

"Have _you _not got anything?" She made a start on her food, realising he remained where he was.

"I'll get my own sorted out in a minute." Chris noted inattentively.

"Something's wrong," she placed a hand on his, "please tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing I should bother you about." He reassured her steadily, placing his other hand on her shoulder. "Eat as much as you can, love, ok? I know that being laid up in bed can make people lose their appetites."

"Is it about that girl you were telling me about?" Her question made him stop as he was going to leave her room.

He froze in her doorway, looking to her anxiously. How could he lie to his own _daughter_? "In part, yeah." A small smile had quirked across his mouth. "But she's somewhere she'll be well looked after, so we shouldn't worry about her anymore."

Clara was vaguely aware of the fact that Chris had left her by herself. She didn't mind – she assumed that he would've wanted time to himself.  
>After she'd eaten, she made to take her empty plate out – seeing her father slouched on the sofa. She slid her plate on the side, taking care not to unsettle him from his pensive torpor. "Everything ok?"<p>

He didn't answer her.

"Dad…" She went over to him, placing a hand on his arm and shaking him a few times, enough to make him snap out of it.

His bright blue eyes suddenly came to life, and he saw her bent down next to him, her hand still around his slender arm. "Did I go to sleep?"

She giggled a little, despite her concern. "You _looked_ like you did," she noted, "unless you've started to sleep with your eyes _open_."

He sat up more comfortably, surprising himself at the position he found himself in and wondering how on earth he managed to stay like that.

"I thought you weren't going to respond." She continued, moving her hand lower down to his wrist and caressing the soft flesh there softly.

He felt _awful_ at realising he'd been ignoring her. It wasn't as though he _meant _to, but for some reason he simply drifted out of consciousness for a split second. He was still _awake_, of course, but he was close to a very _dreamlike _state. "I'm sorry," he apologised suddenly, "I'm so sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" Clara smiled encouragingly. "You're just a little _tired_, that's all."

Chris gradually felt sleepy from her stroking. He didn't expect her to be worried about him, but it was clear to him she'd taken on board what he told her the night before, and what had gone on over the past few days had taken its toll on him.

"I think you should go to bed and get some sleep," she kept the caressing going at his wrist.

He smirked to himself. "I hope you're not turning into my _mum_," he remarked.

She giggled a little at his quip. "Might as well be."


	12. Chapter 12

Clara tried to keep awake all through her set with Chris. Even though he was her father, she still had the obligation to let him teach her.  
>And it wasn't as though she had a rough night. She slept well and she felt as though she'd had a refreshing enough sleep, but for some reason she felt drowsy and light-headed – and it was only a theory set.<p>

She couldn't keep her head up any longer, and so she leant forwards on her desk, folded her arms over it and rested her head on top. She half-expected him to fly over to her and tell her off for sleeping through, but he was well aware of her problems outside of school. He understood.

"I'm sorry," she went straight over to him to apologise after the set was over, "I am so sorry. I didn't mean to sleep through, but I just couldn't keep awake."

"I know why you did it," he reassured her, "you don't have to apologise for it."

She looked to him carefully.

"You do have to make up for it, however." He added apologetically. "I can't let you go completely off the hook. You have to go through the same stuff everyone else did only you do it in your own time."

"Y-you mean I have to do it…_at home_?"

He nodded slowly. "If you _wanted _to." He handed her a textbook, which she less than thankfully took from him. "I know this isn't an ideal situation…"

"Too true it isn't," she shot back quietly.

"But we will work around this, I promise you."

"When _are _we leaving exactly?"

"Clara," Chris leant further forward over his desk, "you shouldn't be asking me something like that during school hours. Afterwards, it's fine, but not now."

Clara folded her arms across her chest. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" He frowned.

"Going back into work mode. Just…generally being really harsh with me."

"I'm _not _being harsh with you," he replied. "I'm just stating a fact, that's all. We're both in school and domestic issues are going to have to wait till after."

She resignedly put the textbook he gave her away in her bag. "Ok, fine. Whatever. If that's the way you wanna play it."

"I know your concentration isn't that good right now," he went on. "That's why I'm letting you work at home. At least return the favour by doing as I say and completing it."

"Ok," she drew in a small sigh, "if that's what you want."

Clara spent most of that night in her room, writing up what Chris wanted her to. She found that she was doing it at a more comfortable pace than she was in his set.  
>That was until she found herself stuck on a question.<p>

_Urggh_, she rubbed her eyes free of sleep as she lay on her front on her bed as she wrote, _stupid illness._

"Clara?" His voice came from behind her closed door. "Are you ok in there, love?"

She didn't answer, preferring to try and concentrate on the question she was stuck on.  
>She didn't hear the door open or hear him come into the room.<p>

"Still working?" He smirked playfully. "Don't keep yourself up all night with that, young lady."

"I _have _to finish it all for you," she dimly replied.

"Don't do it just to please me," he noted softly, going over to her and sitting not far from her on the bed. "That's not what I want."

She angrily slammed her pen down on her notepad. "I'm _never _going to answer this question."

"Which one?" He peered over to see if there was anything he could do to ease his daughter's anger. "If you want me to help…"

His remark prompted her to put her head in her hands as the tears came. "Then I'd be _cheating_."

"Not for just one question when you've answered the others ok." He placed a hand on her back and rubbed her there. He felt awful at how upset she'd gotten. "It'll take some time, love."

Clara jolted at the unexpected touch, and she found that she was getting pulled into a loving embrace.  
>Chris had gotten her into a sitting position on his lap and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to his body.<br>Her tears temporarily stopped from the unexpected yet comforting action. She closed her eyes, her breathing slowing from him gently caressing her down her back.

She had _never_ had anyone who had felt so strongly for her, in a paternal sense, and in a way she felt like she didn't deserve it. "I'll _fail _the exams," she stated in a low voice.

"You don't have to worry about that for now," he kept the rubs going, finding that they were working in alleviating her. "How about I help you?"

"O-ok…"

"Then we have to think about getting you to bed." He went on. "Else you'll get tired in the morning."

Once he helped her, he made to get her medication whilst she got ready for bed. She slipped her nightdress on and got in under the blankets as he came back in with a glass of water.

"Oh no," she knew what was going to happen, "not that time again."

"Afraid so," he put the water to one side and gave her the small tablet. "I know you don't like swallowing these things, but they _do _help and you have to take them."

Clara reluctantly took the tablet with a small mouthful of water, and it had gone.

"Done that?"

She nodded slowly.

"Good," Chris pulled the blankets more warmly over her. "Relax and close your eyes."  
>He pressed his lips to her forehead, giving her a sugar-soft kiss.<br>He decided to leave her lamp on, in case she wanted to use it as a night light if she had problems sleeping.

"Dad?" Her voice came from the bed when he was inches from her doorway.

"What is it?" He looked to her attentively.

"Thanks for helping me."

He smiled softly. "You're welcome." He then carefully closed the door, leaving her to rest.

The next morning, Clara woke up quite early and came out of her room to find that Chris had gotten up earlier than her. "You're up early."

He dimly peered up to see her still in her long nightdress. "I could say the same about you."

She smirked playfully and approached him, before noticing a slight dark tint to his under-eyes. "Have you been up long?" The surprise from seeing such an unusual sight adorn his features was clear in her voice.

"For a few hours," he sat up into a better position so that he'd no longer sprawled himself out on the sofa. "I didn't sleep too well."

"I can see that." She sat next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Is it something I said?"

"It's nothing you said or did, love." He replied hazily. "Just that the things going on with Jess are still bothering me."

Clara tipped her head slightly. "Is that the girl who almost threw herself off the roof yesterday?"

He nodded slowly.

"You stopped her from doing anything, though." She assured him, squeezing the flesh through his t-shirt. "Why should that bother you?"

"I-I don't know," Chris vaguely stated. "I don't know but I just feel that I haven't done enough for her. I didn't get her the help she needed sooner and if she had, it may not have happened."

"But you were trying to keep your promise not to tell her mum," she explained, "and that doesn't make you a bad person. _None _of this makes you a bad person. Don't blame yourself for how it's all panned out."

"Maybe I should see her." He supposed to himself.

"You finish this Friday," she reminded him. "Don't bring this all on yourself, not now. We wanted to start over, didn't we?"

"But by doing this we would do." He looked to her carefully. "If I see her maybe it would stop me feeling so bad."

Clara came over quiet, and kept her gaze on him. He was agitated; she could make out that he was, and his temperament had a habit of flitting from one extreme to another when he was. "This is up to you," she stated carefully and slowly. "If you think it'd make you feel better, then do it."


	13. Chapter 13

Chris was taken to the room in which Jess was kept in at the hospital.  
>The building itself wasn't at all clinical – it was community-based, meaning it was more comfortable and homely than a more public one.<br>He came across her in her room, seeing her sitting up on her bed that was by the window. She immediately came over defensive.

"Why are you here?" She aggressively demanded to know. "Don't tell me you've come to _gloat _about how you lured me up here."

He wasn't expecting that sort of reaction from her when he appeared, but he was well aware of her instability. And she wasn't overly keen to go the place at the outset anyway. "You know I didn't lure you," he replied steadily. "You asked me to help you and this is how you get it."

Not content at his reply, she wrapped her arms around herself to express an even _deeper_ anger at him being there and correcting her. Why was he there anyway? Was he _ever _going to go away?

"I'm sorry if you don't like this, Jess," he went on, "but this is the only other way you get help in an environment that isn't as distant. That was what you wanted from me."

She said nothing for some time, instead preferring to stare down at the floor and allow the seething anger to cool. "I'm sorry," she apologised. "It's just that I haven't found it easy to adjust to this place and even though my mum isn't around, I still have the nurses telling me what to do."

"I know it isn't easy," he admitted. "No sane person would say otherwise. It'll take some getting used to and you know that if you wanna talk to your mum, they'll let you do that. You're not a prisoner."

Jess nodded slowly.

"They want you to get better." Chris continued. "But they also want you to feel comfortable. I know that they patrol these areas day in and day out, but that's only 'cause they're making sure you're still there and you're not endangering yourself or anyone else."

"I feel so alone," she mumbled, managing to look to him that time. "Why can't I leave with you?"

His eyes widened in shock. She hadn't long gotten there! "Y-you know I can't let you do that." He froze when she grasped his arm with both hands.

"I feel alone and I wouldn't feel that way if you were with me." Something about him made her feel safe, and she could understand why his relationship with his daughter was so perfect.

"I can stay here with you for as long as you want," he conceded. "But as far as letting you leave is concerned, that isn't going to happen. You're here to get _treated_. You won't get that if you go and you certainly won't get any better."

She drew in a small sigh.

"Last time was too close to call. So was the time before if you'd taken it any further. What about the next time, or the time after that if there is one? It'll get worse." He pulled his arm out of her grip. "We can't have anything happen to you again."

An icy, tense silence fell between them for a few moments. Neither of them knew where to look, although one thing they knew for sure was that they weren't going to give any eye contact to the other for fear of what they felt.

"How's your daughter?" Jess asked quietly, deciding to make some small talk with him.

"O-ok, considering," Chris replied, inwardly wary of what she was going to ask him next. "She has good days and bad days, but all we can do is take it as it comes."

"It must be tough to look after her," she supposed out loud, "especially if she's not well."

"The worry of not knowing what she'll feel like from one day to the next can get _tiring_," he admitted. "But hopefully the medication she takes will sort it."

Her eyes flitted to him slowly. "She's taking medication now?"

"The first lot she was given made her sicker," he explained. "But she got through that."

"Wish _I _had a dad like you." The redhead admitted vaguely.

He swallowed hard.

"I know that _my_ dad loved me – he still does. He loves _all _of us. But when I saw you with her, I felt something and I didn't know what it was.

"I'm not _jealous _of your relationship with her, but…I felt something warm when you were together. It's hard to explain."

"I think what you might've felt was empathy," he assumed. "But that doesn't mean to say that I'm _perfect_. I _love _her, very much so, and 'cause she's the only daughter I have I only want what's best for her."

Jess nodded slowly.

"Other people think I'm _spoiling _her," he went on. "But I'm happy if she's happy. There's no other way of making that any clearer."

"You _love _her," she noted reassuringly, "and that doesn't mean you're turning her into a _brat_. From what I've heard she isn't like that. She's the only one you have. And you just wanna make her feel special…to show her she means a lot to you."

"You're very lucky to have a mum like her," he stated distantly, realising he'd gotten unaware of the time.

She smiled softly and placed a hand on his. "And your daughter's very lucky to have a dad like _you_."

"I have to go now," Chris supposed. "I don't know when I'll be able to see you again."

"You can come up here any time," she suggested. "There's no restriction on visiting hours…"

"I didn't mean that," he replied. "Clara and I…we're moving away in a few days. Far away from here."

Her smile vanished from her features. "B-but, you can't."

An eyebrow lowered in confusion.

"Not when you took me here."

He took some time to answer as he took in what she said. "J-Jess…what goes on here no longer concerns me or anyone else at the school. The staff in this building are looking after you. No one else.

"Till you finish your treatment, then they'll let you go and then you can go back to school. But by the time you go back I won't be there."

"S-so you're _abandoning _me," she assumed icily, "just like that."

"No, I am not. This was all thought out well in advance. The timing was just unlucky. And your mum will help you – they _all_ will. I've got my _own_ priorities now and they're more personal than those I have with _you_." He got off the bed so as to get ready to leave, but a wave of guilt surfaced when a hand grasped the end of his sleeve. He could've lost his patience with her and demanded her to let him go, but he didn't.  
>Instead he kept relatively calm and waited for her to say what she wanted to say.<p>

"Please don't leave me," she pleaded. "You're what makes me feel so safe."

"I know how hard this is for you," Chris admitted, "don't think that I don't. But there are people here and back home that can make you feel better. I can't be that person."

Jess slowly let go so that he could get to the door before she tried to grab him again.

Not wanting to give her any more eye contact and not wanting to know of the way she was looking at him, he left the room without saying a word and closed the door on his way out.

Clara was still awake when she heard the front door to the flat unlock, open, close and then lock. She felt a little achy and so she went to bed slightly earlier than normal.

He appeared in her doorway, an air of exhaustion present through his features. His eyes widened in hazy surprise at seeing her in bed. "Not feeling too good?"

She shook her head.

"Taken your medication?"

She nodded as he came into her room and sat down next to her on the bed. She closed her eyes as he gently swept a few wayward strands of hair away from her eyes. He was so careful with her – so light and comforting.  
>"It'll take some time for them to work…won't it?"<p>

"I'm afraid so. It's the same with _any _treatment." He twirled a longer strand of dark hair around his index finger. "Have you not eaten since coming back here?"

"I-I didn't know what I felt like," she replied dimly, "so I didn't have anything."

Chris came over pensive yet sullen at the same time. Clara knew what that expression meant.

"Dad, it isn't as though I don't _wanna_ eat," she went on. "Sometimes my stomach doesn't know what it feels like. You know as well as _I _do that I wouldn't let myself starve."

"I know you wouldn't, love," he conceded. "But you can't go without eating. I know it's part and parcel of the illness but you should still have something."

"I don't know…if I should."

"Even if you try a little bit?" When she didn't answer he pressed her a little more. "The last thing I would wanna do is force-feed you but if the way you're feeling is that bad, I'm sure it's nothing the doctor hasn't _heard _of."

"I-I don't wanna talk to a _shrink_," she assumed, her eyes coming over sharper with more of an iciness to them.

"No, not a shrink." He reassured her. "I meant that maybe you can be put on a special diet."

"Then maybe you can discuss that with the doctor _tomorrow_," she bluntly suggested.

He frowned in confusion. "Since when do we have to go up there?"

She looked to him knowingly. "During the last appointment – for a follow-up with the meds?"


	14. Chapter 14

Clara was nervous the next morning. All through the drive to the hospital, she remained frozen in the passenger seat of the car, focussing on nothing but the floor.  
>When they stopped at the last lot of red lights before their turning, she almost hit the roof when Chris placed a hand on her arm and squeezed her.<p>

"Don't worry," his voice came out soft and dim. "They're not there to _hurt _you."

"W-what if what I take doesn't _work_?" She weakly supposed. "I'll just get sicker."

"You've done fine up to now," he had to release his grip on her when their lights went green. "I know what you're on isn't as strong, but that doesn't mean to say it's not working as well. You haven't had any attacks or fits since starting it, so it'd be safe to assume that it _has _worked."

She decided not to say anything when he drove into a bay and parked up.

"I've got to get a ticket from the meter," he stated, "wait there till I come back, ok?"

She nodded slowly and crossed her arms over her chest. It wasn't as though she wasn't taking his word for it, but she felt so afraid and she didn't know why. She drew in a small sigh and swallowed hard when he came back. Obviously he wasn't gone as long as she would've liked.

Chris could sense that Clara was _still_ frightened. He could understand why – after all, she was going to be put through tests that told them if she should be continuing taking the medication she was prescribed.  
>They'd arrived fairly early, and so when they got in through the hospital's entrance, her panic increased.<p>

"Tell you what," he placed a hand on her shoulder to pull her back to him, "why don't we get a drink…give you some time to settle?"

She nodded shakily. "O-ok."

They sat down in the hospital's café together, sitting opposite each other over the table.

"You didn't have to do this, dad." She stated, wrapping her hands around the hot cup of tea.

"It'll help you relax," he replied. "It's scary having to go to _any _appointment with a doctor."

"I do want the medication to work," she admitted. "But after all the problems we've had, I don't want there to be anything else wrong."

"I know you don't, love, and neither do I." He placed a hand on hers over the table.

Looking directly at him she could tell his eyes were expressing something so profound and she felt that she didn't deserve to be the reason behind it.

"We can do this together…you and I."

Chris went with Clara into the doctor's room when she was called in. He sat directly next to her and placed a hand on her arm so that a few rubs would melt the tension away.

"Ok, then, Clara," the doctor got a needle out from one of the plastic boxes on his desk. "I'd like you to sit on the bed so I can take some blood from you."

She looked to her dad worriedly, who kept relatively calm and still.

"It's ok," he assured her, "do as he says. He won't hurt you."

"B-but I don't like needles…"

"It's just a standard blood test, that's all." The doctor noted. "It's no different to last time but this is the only way of knowing if the medication is doing what it's meant to."

She swallowed hard and sat on the bed. A chill slid down her back as the sleeve of her cardigan was rolled up for the injection to start.

Chris could tell she was having a rough time trying to relax, and if she didn't relax the doctor would have a rough time trying to get any blood from her at all. He got up from the chair he was on and went over to her.

"D-dad, please…" She looked to him pleadingly. "I don't want this. It'll hurt."

He squeezed her shoulder with one hand and took hold of her exposed arm with the other. "It might hurt for a few seconds, but this has to be done. No one will know if the medication is helping if you don't go through with this."

She felt sick at seeing the long, sharp needle the doctor was wielding.

"If it's any consolation, the other tests you have probably won't hurt as much if at all. This is the only painful one you'll have, I promise."

Clara closed her eyes and nodded. "O-ok…"

He caressed the skin where the needle was going to go, to try and cloud the pain she could so easily see coming.

"I need you to relax your arm," the doctor explained, "so that the vein I'm taking the blood from will appear more easily."

She relaxed the muscles in her arm as a band was put around it and tightened. She felt the strength from within fade away and her father's caresses had moved from her arm to her hair.

"This isn't going to hurt for long, Clara, I promise." The needle pierced her skin and was kept there as the blood was getting drawn off. "You don't even have to look if you don't want to. Close your eyes and think of somewhere nice."

A jolt of pain struck her, but it was relatively short-lived when the needle was shortly removed and some cotton wool was pressed into the injection wound. All she could feel was a dull throb.

"So now that's done, I would now need you to give me a urine sample." He handed her a small bottle. "It doesn't have to be a lot, but as long as some of it goes in the bottle, then it's fine."

Clara did as she was told. She felt a small wave of dizziness crash over her as she made to wash her hands and she was sure it was from the transient deficit of blood from the test. She leant against the toilets' wall, preferring to wait till the dizziness settled by itself.

"Are you ok?" Another girl, almost the same size and age as her, had joined her. She made to use the sink she was at whilst keeping a watchful gaze on her. "You don't feel well? I can get a nurse to come in if you want…"

"N-no, it's ok…honestly." She replied weakly, although not without gratitude. "I feel a little dizzy."

"Had a blood test, I take it?" The other assumed. When she nodded, she carried on. "They're not so bad after a few times. Is this your first time here?"

"No, I've been here a few times," Clara explained. "I'm only here for a check-up to see if the medication I'm taking is working the way it should."

The other nodded slowly.

"How about you?"

"I'm here for a check-up also," she admitted. Her bright brown eyes flashed. "I didn't introduce myself. I'm Selena."

"Clara," she shyly replied as they held hands.

"Did your mum bring you here?"

She shook her head. "My dad." She explained. "He's been ever so good to me. To him I'm his little princess."

Selena smiled to herself. "Sounds like he loves you to bits."

"He does," Clara used the sink she was nearest to as the dizziness vanished.

"If you don't mind me asking, what is it you're being treated for?"

It was Clara's turn to smile. "I don't mind you asking at all. I have rheumatism. So far it's only affected the joints in my legs and hips but it's lifelong and progressive." She turned more to face the blonde. "Can I ask what _you're _here for?"

"Cancer," she replied softly, prompting the other girl's eyes to widen in shock.

"I'm sorry…I should never have asked you." She dimly apologised. She knew that some cancers never went away and what if Selena's was one of those?

"It's ok," she smiled weakly. "I've known for some time. So has my mum. I come up here for chemotherapy once every week to keep it from getting bad."

"Clara?" Chris's voice could be heard from outside. Both girls knew he wouldn't have been able to go in and see them both. "You've been in there for a while. Is everything ok?"

"Can I ask you something?" Selena came closer to her.

"S-sure, but what?"

"Can I keep in touch with you?" She tipped her head to one side. "'Cause of what I've got I don't spend much time in school, so I don't really have anyone to talk to. I know we've just met and it sounds stupid of me to ask you, but…"

"Sure we can." Clara reassured her. She whipped out her mobile she took into the toilets with her. She always kept her mobile on her at all times.

After they exchanged numbers, she took her sample off the windowsill to give to the doctor when she got back into the room. "Maybe we can meet up at yours sometime."

"Well, I live quite far out of the city," Selena replied. "A few miles away."

"Really?" She frowned. "Whereabouts?"

Clara emerged from the toilets, realising Chris had not moved from his spot outside.

"It took you that long to fill the bottle up by that much?" He assumed suspiciously.

"No," she icily replied, beginning to wish he would get off her case. She inwardly sulked when he placed a hand on her shoulder to make her stop before entering the doctor's room.

"What's brought this on?" He wanted to know. "Have I done something?"

She shook her head slowly.

"Ok." He relaxed his grip on her. "I don't want us to fall out when we're moving away in a few days and with this going on." He gave a more concerned frown at seeing a washed out colour to her face.

"I-I felt dizzy in the toilets," she admitted, "I think it was from the loss of blood."

He let go of her, but was still worried about her. He knew how common it was for anyone to feel faint or dizzy after having blood taken from them.

They got back into the doctor's room when she gave him the sample.  
>"Do you want us to go now?" He asked carefully, not wanting to leave in case they were needed for anything else.<p>

"No, no, I'll need you to stay while I do this." The doctor dipped a stick into the sample whilst writing some notes. "Everything with the sample checks out ok, although Clara does have a little infection."

"A-an infection like what?" He came over shocked if not worried.

"Honestly, it's nothing serious." He replied reassuringly. "More than likely she just needs some water to flush it out. That's what I'd usually recommend for little flare-ups like this.

"As for the blood test, from what I've seen everything looks fine. The medication is not doing anything it shouldn't to her, so she can take it as she's been told to. She will need a second follow-up in a month's time but as you're moving you can arrange that with the other surgery you'll go with."

"So that was good news, then," Chris started the car up once they got in and were going to drive off home.

Clara nodded slowly.

"You sure you're feeling ok?" He reached over and tipped her head back up so he could see her better. If anything she still looked a little pale. The colour had started to come back in her cheeks but it wasn't enough to hide the whiteness in her face.

"I think so," she replied weakly. "Just feel a little tired."

"Maybe you should go to bed and get some sleep," he suggested as they pulled out of the hospital's car park to go home.


	15. Chapter 15

Clara did exactly as Chris had suggested, although he more or less helped her. She wasn't too weak to do it all herself but she certainly was tired and it was something that worried him.  
>He didn't want <em>anything <em>to hold off their move, but they might have to hold it off till she felt better.

He took her temperature, realising it was a little over normal but not by much. Maybe taking on the doctor's advice about flushing the infection out wasn't a bad idea.  
>He filled a glass with some water and placed it on her nightstand. "I hope you're going to drink some of that," he stated knowingly.<p>

"M-maybe…"

He cupped the side of her face and caressed the skin there. "You heard what the doctor said, it's just a little infection. Water will help it."

Through the cloud of exhaustion, Clara saw her mobile flash from a new message that had come through and after waiting for him to vanish, reached for it on the nightstand to see whom it was who had sent it.

It was some time before Clara managed to find any strength after her sleep. She came out of her room to realise it had gone dark outside and the flat had its lights on a very dim glow.

"I didn't want the lights to blind you if you felt well enough to get up," Chris explained from his place on the sofa, noticing a healthier colour to his daughter's complexion.

"I don't know what happened, but I felt so wiped out."

"So I'd noticed." He inched far over to one side for her to join him. She did so and they shared a warm hug. "You look better now though."

She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his waist as he wrapped his arms around her neck, pressing them close together. Even though he was small in size and stature, he was invitingly soft and warm. She could simply fall asleep from their close body contact. "…Dad?" Her voice came out sleepy and hazy.

"What is it, love?"

She rubbed him over his broad chest with one hand. "I don't wanna feel alone where we'll move to."

"We won't though, will we?" Chris stated rhetorically. "We'll have each other, and that was the general idea – for us to have as much time together as possible."

"So it'd just be _us_?" Clara peered up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "No one else but us?"

He shrugged. "We don't know of anyone else who would be close by. But that was the way we wanted it. Just you and I."

She thought for a few seconds before saying what she wanted to. "I-I met a girl at the hospital," she started. "She lives not far from where we would be."

"Y-you wanna keep in touch with her?" He assumed.

She slowly nodded, not knowing how he would take the news. "But if it isn't what you wanted me to do, I don't have to. In fact, I can delete her number…"

"No," he stated. "That isn't what I'm suggesting at all. Why would I want you to break off contact with her? If anything I'd _encourage _it."

"S-so you don't mind?"

"No," he replied, "not at all."

She nestled further into him, sensing an index finger gently extricate a few fine knots in her hair. She could let the deep depths of sleep pull her back under, and make her fall asleep right there with him so he'd have to carry her back to her room and put her to bed.

"You ok down there?" He asked her jokily.

She buried her nose in his arm, taking in a softly sweet scent on his flesh. He smelt so good, so comforting, and to breathe in such a scent made her all the sleepier. "I guess I _am _getting a little drowsy…"

He smirked to himself. "You call that a _little_?" He took hold of her as if to lift her into his arms. "I think you should save your strength for tomorrow if you were going to help with the move."

She mumbled something incoherent as he set about taking her to bed. She didn't want to move from him, she really didn't. She took hold of his arm, squeezing the soft flesh within her grasp.

"We don't want you tiring yourself out," Chris went on, setting her down on her bed and pulling the blankets over her, "especially when you get so achy."

"You make me sound like an old lady…" Her eyes dimly opened, revealing two misty green orbs.

He laughed a little. "You just need to set yourself limits, love, that's all. And the medication still needs time to work." Reaching out, he gently brushed the tip of his thumb against the corner of her eye. "Relax…close your eyes."

Once Clara was well and truly asleep, Chris spent what seemed to be an eternity perched next to her on her bed, with his eyes not leaving her.  
>He felt so protective of her and he didn't know why. It was all well and good that she'd made friends with someone of her own age and he should be happy about that, but the time that he and her had spent together was what made their relationship what it was.<p>

He couldn't find a word to describe how he would possibly feel about her going off, but he guessed he felt maybe a little bit _alone_. And the last things he would've wanted was to be completely against her new-found friendship and as a result not want it to happen, and to sabotage it.  
>He should be <em>happy<em> that _she _was happy, but for some reason, he wasn't fully.

"Right then," he noted in an announcing-sounding voice, "here's your box." He dropped a folded-out cardboard box for her to use.

She started packing her stuff away. "So was your last day interesting?"

He smirked to himself. "Not really," he replied. "The guys wanted to take me out for a few, but when I mentioned we had to make tracks they got the message. We can't leave it too late to go up there, not when it gets dark so early on."

She nodded in acknowledgement, noticing he'd dropped himself onto the sofa, which had been covered in its dustsheet for a few weeks. "It's ok for _you_, I'm doing all the work."

"But that's only 'cause it's _your_ stuff that needs packing up, not _mine_." He stated teasingly. "And you haven't got a lot to pack anyway, it isn't going to take you that long."

Once she had done that, she settled next to him. "All done."

"Well, this is hardly any time to sit around," he swiftly got up, "we have to load the car and go."

"W-we can't load the car with _everything_…can we?"

A small playful smirk quirked the corners of his mouth. "I didn't ask for a pick-up to come here tomorrow _for nothing_."

Once everything had been put into some sort of normality, the two of them set down together in one of the bed-less rooms.

"Once the rest of the stuff comes tomorrow, it'll be better." Chris reassured his daughter. "It does seem a little weird right now, I know."

"Can I call Selena?"

He peered down at his watch, squinting through the dark at what the time was. "It's a little late to call her, love. You sure you're not tired yet? It's gone ten."

Clara didn't realise how late it had gotten yet she didn't feel overly tired at all. "Can I text her?"

He took some time to answer and darted his gaze to the blank wall in front of them. "I don't know…" He replied doubtfully, his voice tailing off in reservation. "It isn't that I don't trust you to go to sleep when you should, but…"

She came over a little sad.

"I just don't want you to get so tired." He continued. "We've gotten you into a habit of taking you to bed when you feel tired enough and I don't want us to break that habit."

"It won't be for too long," she reassured him persuasively.

His eyes lost a little of their softness. "Ok," he steadily agreed, "but don't leave it too late to sleep."

Clara was quite comfortable in her makeshift bed. Although their beds were still awaiting pick-up the next day, they'd settled on using the emptied cardboard boxes as mattresses. Luckily they'd taken the blankets with them, and she was quite warm nestled in amongst them.

She'd placed her mobile next to her on the floor, ensuring that it wasn't too far for her to reach. She was thankful that Chris had left her bedroom door partly open, so as to let a little bit of light through from the landing.

She found it a little odd how he didn't go through the usual drill of taking her to bed and getting her to settle, although they were hardly in the most comfortable of conditions.  
>Her mobile flashed with a new message and she read it. As she answered it, she started to hope that he hadn't lost his ways with her. They were what had made them so close.<p>

After the rest of the contents of the flat were picked up the following day, they managed to find homes for them. By the end of that time they were both very tired.

"I could do with some sleep now," he noted hazily, disappearing from her room.

All Clara could then hear was a door close, and she got up to go to him. She found that he'd dropped onto his bed, extremely close to falling asleep. And he _should_ have felt that way after taking on most of the lifting. It was certainly stuff _she_ couldn't have dealt with.  
>She scrambled onto the bed, going over to him and lying next to him. "…Dad?" She started, rubbing his flat stomach with her hand through his slightly damp t-shirt.<p>

"…Yeah?"

"Can I go out for a bit?"

A small silence ensued. "You don't know where we are. You could get lost."

She sulked a little. "Can _you _take me out later – when you've had a bit of a sleep?"

He flipped himself over onto his side. "If you want."

She placed a hand on his back and stroked him there a few times. "Is everything ok?"

"Sure."

She smiled a little and slowed the strokes. "Love you."

"Love you too."


	16. Chapter 16

After he got a little bit of sleep, Chris felt awake enough to take Clara outside. They settled on him taking her somewhere they could settle and have a talk at the same time.  
>They sat opposite each other in the small café, but she limited the eye contact with him to very little.<p>

"What do you feel like?" He asked her, deciding to keep his awareness of her anger to himself for the time being.

"Nothing," she stonily replied.

"We're here now," he went on, "you might as well have something."

She thought for a few seconds. "A latte."

He got up to place their order, knowing that he shouldn't take her irritability as a sign that things between them were going sour like before. She probably had things on her mind that she'd rather keep to herself and that was fine as long as it wasn't going to affect her in the long term. If anything he'd rather wait till she felt she could say what it was that was making her feel so bad.

"I'm going to get better, dad, aren't I?" Clara randomly asked when he came back and sat down in his chair opposite her.

Chris frowned at her question. "What made you say that? Sure you are. The stuff you take is helping you, right?" She nodded. "Well then."

"_Selena _isn't going to get better." She replied.

"That what she told you?"

She thankfully took her cup from the girl who was serving them. "Why do bad things happen to people we like?"

He smirked to himself wryly. "Just the way it goes, I guess." He came over more sombre. "Is that why you were so dead set on seeing her?"

She nodded slowly. "Before she…got much worse."

"I didn't realise that was why you wanted to see her so badly," he admitted, "but I can understand the way you feel."

She smiled softly. "I didn't mean to be annoyed at you. I didn't mean to be annoyed at anything. But it just doesn't seem right that she should be so sick."

"Listen, love," he grasped her hand over the table, "don't let me stop you from seeing her. You can both relate to each other…that's what's made you so close. It's just that…" His voice tailed off and he cast his gaze to the table's surface sadly.

"What?" Clara's grip on him tightened, signalling for him to continue and explain himself. Her eyes widened at taking in the sadness in his eyes. It made them soft and look as though he was welling up inside. It was something she'd never seen before and it frightened her to bits. "Dad?" She tried again, her voice hinting mild fear.

"Nothing," Chris resignedly fibbed, feeling close to shrinking back against the chair.

"No, something is wrong." She made to press him, squeezing him again. "Dad, we've been through a lot together and you've done so much for me. I'm not going to let you carry this bad feeling you have. It's weighing you down."

"It's something I probably shouldn't be feeling at all." He stated quietly, inwardly scolding himself to hold the weird feelings back.

"I don't want us to leave this place till you tell me," she replied firmly, "and whatever it is it concerns _us_."

He swallowed hard and didn't lift his gaze from the table. He felt awful and he didn't know why he should have. A chill slid down his back when she reached out, placed an index finger under his jaw and softly tip his head up so their eyes were level again. He wished he could just close his eyes and not let her see how helpless he must've looked. It was a front he had _forbidden _her to see.

"I know we've moved somewhere else and you might be having second thoughts or not feel that I'm ok with it. If that's what it is you don't have to worry about it."

"I-it's not that."

Clara gasped from the pain in his voice. "Then what?"

"I'm afraid of losing you."

The corners of her mouth lifted a little. "But you _won't _lose me. We live together, that won't happen."

"The reason I wanted us to move was so both of us could be alone together." He went on.

"You don't want me to see Selena," she stonily assumed, "do you?"

Chris drew in a small sigh. "It's not that I don't want you to be happy, 'cause I do, very much so."

"But I _would _be happier if I had someone else to talk to and not just you."

He nodded dimly. "Ok," he resignedly agreed.

She smiled a little more from his acceptance. "Ok, good." She sat back in her chair. "You worried me for a few seconds."

Clara got herself ready to see Selena later on that afternoon. She curled her long, dark hair into cascading waves and spritzed a spray all over it, not knowing that someone was leaning against her room's door and watching her.

"You pretty much ready to go now?" Chris asked her, admiring the pristine condition her hair was in.

She nodded slowly. "Ready when _you _are."

He smirked to himself. "I'm only dropping you off, you know," he replied half-teasingly. "It isn't as though I'm coming in with you."

"Why not?" She approached him and placed her hands on his shoulders. "You look presentable enough."

He looked to her with a wry expression and she removed herself from him.

"Your loss," she noted in a singsong voice. "You might've been able to meet her _mum_."

"Oh, no you don't," he crossed his arms over his broad chest as she set about getting her cardigan on. "You're not going to make me fall for that, young lady. No matchmaking."

Chris dropped Clara off outside Selena's house, but she didn't dare move from her spot in the passenger seat of his car.

"What's wrong with meeting her?" She wanted to know. "You might _like _her."

"No," he was making it clear that he wasn't going to go anywhere.

She rolled her eyes at him before putting her hands on his nearest arm to her. "You can be such a sad sack at times."

"Is that your new name for me now?" He taunted dimly, not bothering to ask himself why he was allowing her to try and pull him out of the car.

"Come on," she pressed him, "out you get."

He drew in a small sigh, inwardly laughing at her attitude towards him taking her to the door. He wasn't there for any other reason. He was only there for his daughter.

The front door opened, and Selena answered it. "Clara, you've come." She beamed happily, before peering up at the young male accompanying her. "Is this your brother?"

Clara burst out into peals of laughter, whilst Chris simply stood there and blushed madly. "This is my _dad_, silly."

"Wow," the blonde breathed, "he looks so young." She stepped aside to let them both in, and they both did as she wanted them to.

"Ok, just wait there and I'll go get my mum," she told them, and she dashed up the stairs, leaving them both in the hallway.

"'_Your brother_'?" He reiterated, the surprise heavily hinted in his voice.

Clara giggled a little. "I think she likes you." She watched his eyes dart this way and that. "Aww…I think you're going a little _shy_."

Selena bounded back down the stairs with her mother following not too far behind.  
>She was not too dissimilar to her daughter, with her long blonde hair tied in a very loose side ponytail and its ends cascading over her shoulder and her perfect hourglass figure highly defined in the long purple top paired with leggings.<p>

He swallowed hard, feeling his throat's contents stick and stay there. She _was _very pretty, he had to admit.

"You must be Clara's father," she smiled softly, "Selena's told me a lot about _you_."


	17. Chapter 17

Once the girls settled on their second date, Clara was excited when that date came round. It actually came round very quickly and each day leading up to it made her all the more pumped up.

She let Selena in, and was taken aback at how pretty she looked. Her long, blonde hair was brushed over her shoulder and cascaded down her front in sumptuous waves and over her sparkly pink top. The black leggings she wore showed off her slender legs to perfection, and no one, whether they knew her or not, would've taken a guess at her being poorly.

"Hope I'm not too overdressed," she smiled softly as the other girl let her in.

"N-no, not at all." Once she closed the front door she wrapped her arms around her waist to give her a warm hug. "How have you been feeling?"

"Clara," she teasingly replied, "you haven't been worrying about me already, have you? We didn't long see each other and you're acting as though you haven't seen me in a _month_."

"I know that the way you feel from the illness and the meds can go up and down. My condition is like that." Clara stated. "And I _do _get worried about you."

"Well, don't," she placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it in a comforting way. "I'm _fine_. Haven't been better."

"Dad isn't like your mum in terms of cooking," she noted teasingly as she thought back to the previous time, "so if you were ok with something simple…"

"A _takeout _would do me fine."

Her eyes widened. "He didn't think you'd be _up _for that…" She noticed she came over more disappointed. "But he'll do that if you really want one."

"I wouldn't wanna put him out."

"No," she replied reassuringly, "no, he'd be _more_ than happy to sort that out. And we haven't had a takeout in _weeks_."

"Is he about?" Selena slipped her coat off, which Clara happily took from her to take up to her room. She followed her.

"Yeah, he's about but he won't be here all night."

"Y-you mean he's leaving us…_alone _together?" The blonde's eyes widened in surprise.

"He does a part time job," the darker-haired girl replied, "though he won't tell me what it is. He's staying around long enough to head out and get us something."

It wasn't long before Chris appeared in her bedroom doorway. "You ok up here, girls?"

They both nodded.

"Are you feeling empty," he came further into the room, "or are you ok to hang on till I get back?"

"You won't be back till much later, dad." Clara replied. "I think it'd be better if you went out now. Last time you said you wouldn't be back late and you came in at eleven in the evening."

"Oh," he flushed a little, "thought you'd forgotten about that."

She gave him a wry smirk and once they told him what they wanted, he was gone.

"I can't believe you spent so long trying to find him," Selena admitted, "you must be so happy that you did."

"Selena, he's been so good to me." She replied. "I love him to bits. What my mum had told me about him just wasn't true."

She tipped her head a little. "She lied to you, then."

She shrugged. "She said he wouldn't be a responsible dad."

"She's gotten that wrong, obviously," she reassured her, "and I like him."

Clara smiled shyly. "He tends to have that effect on people."  
>She would've jumped a foot in the air at the other girl cupping her face softly and pulling herself closer to her.<p>

"I like _both_ of you," she replied, "but especially _you_." Leaning further forward, she pressed her lips to hers and they shared a sweet kiss.

The darker-haired girl closed her eyes and relaxed into the touch, and when they withdrew she lay back on her bed. "Can we do what we did the other night?"

The blonde looked to her teasingly. "How about we do it _for real_ tonight?" After all, what they were going to do was what she considered _special_, and there was no telling when Chris would've come back and accidentally saw them both going at it. She was sure he was happy for her to be happy but he wouldn't have wanted to see the whole thing – skin on skin, bodies pressing together…it gave her warm rushes at the thought.

"Y-you mean when we go to bed?"

She nodded, smiling naughtily.

After they had eaten and Chris had well and truly left them to it, it got late enough for them to feel tired and want to go to bed. Holding hands, they got to Clara's room and stripped themselves.

"I love you," Selena shakily stated after their afterglows surged through them, "don't think what we did was just something I wanted to do with you. I do love you."

"I know," she kissed her on the lips softly, "and so do I."

When Chris came back much later on, he took a guess at them both asleep as the time was gone after eleven. He decided to check up on them and make sure they were both ok, so he carefully opened the door to Clara's room and saw them both sleeping together.

He saw nothing untoward about that – he found it acceptable for two girls of their age to sleep together. Of course, they were topless but he still couldn't see an issue.

The next morning, Clara awoke to find that she was on her own. She peered round the room, seeing that Selena must've been about as the clothes she'd discarded from their night of fun were still where she'd left them. She heard footsteps approach the door and she shakily came back in. Her eyes widened at seeing how pale she looked.

"I don't feel so good," she stated weakly as she scrambled back into bed.

"Do you want dad to send for a doctor?" She offered. "He's done that for me once or twice. And you do look quite poorly."

"I don't wanna bother him," she replied hazily.

She tipped her head a little. "Did I do something wrong last night?"

"No," Selena frowned. "Why do you say that? I _loved _what we did together. Last night felt so good." Her voice had a brighter lilt to it as she said that. "Maybe my meds need to be upped. What I've got won't go away and is progressive, after all."

"I wish there was something I could do for you," she placed a hand on her stomach and rubbed her there softly. "So I could make you better."

"But you know that won't happen, Clara," she took hold of her hand and caressed her. "This can't be stopped and it won't _ever _go away." She got up from her lying position in bed and set about getting dressed. "I think I should go home and get my mum to take me to the hospital."

"Dad can do that for you," Clara suggested. "He's done everything for me, and he's very likely to wanna do the same for you. I know he's not related to you, but you're the only friend I've got, Selena. He'll wanna help someone who's been there for me."

She drew in a small sigh, feeling the wave of nausea stick in the top part of her stomach before moving back down again. "Ok," she carefully agreed.

The two girls realised that even though the time had gone half-past ten, they were the only people up. They went to where Chris was sleeping, and went to either side of the bed. He was curled up on his side.

"Dad," Clara placed her hands on his shoulder and shook him to wake him. He didn't stir that much.

Selena frowned. "Is he often like this?"

"If he's really tired," she replied, "or had another late night." She inwardly wished he'd tell her what the heck he got up to and what would've possessed him to work so late. It was probably doing all sorts to his sleep pattern and she knew what he was like if he didn't get a good enough sleep.

The young male uttered a hazy mumble at his daughter continuing to stir him awake, and he flipped onto his back. His eyelids fluttered but failed to open.

"He's _really _out." She looked to the blonde slowly. "Open the curtains." She knew that doing something like that would wake him.

She smirked to herself. "I don't think he'd like that."

"He needs to wake up, Selena. He's had enough sleep."

She quickly opened the curtains, allowing the sunlight to burst through the window from outside and flood the room. Her action prompted him to immediately recoil in shock at the brightness and jump awake.

He scrunched his eyes shut till they adjusted to the light before opening them fully. Sitting up in bed, he noticed the two girls at each side. "What happened?" He asked tiredly.

"We had to wake you," Clara explained apologetically, "sorry."

He frowned. "Why? You knew I was going to come back late."

"It's Selena," she stated. "She doesn't feel too well."

Taking a good look at her, Chris could see she looked a little washed-out. He raised an eyebrow in concern. "You feel sick?"

She nodded slowly. "I've even _been _sick."

"She takes meds on top of her chemo," the darker-haired girl went on, "but when I saw her earlier, she didn't look good."

"_I _don't think she looks good, either." He got up out of bed, despite being a little sleepy still. He looked at her again. "And she's definitely lost a bit of colour."

"W-what do you think you should do?" Selena asked hazily.

"I think we should get you to a hospital," he replied.


	18. Chapter 18

Once Selena was helped into the back of Chris's car, Clara offered to get into the back with her in case anything untoward happened on the way to the hospital.

"B-but what about_ mum_?" The blonde asked in alarm. "Shouldn't she know about where I am?"

"I can sort that out once you're there," he reassured her, "but right now you have to get looked at." He froze in his seat at seeing her wrap her arms around her stomach.

"It's ok," Clara spoke softly, placing a hand on her back. "And I told you dad would help."

"Is she ok?" He asked carefully. "If she feels sick…"

"I think she's ok," she stated. "She's hanging in there."

He nodded in acknowledgement, as he pulled out of their road. If she were sick in the car it might've meant an expensive valet, but in her case he would make an exception. After all, being sick from drugs that weren't working as well as they had was something she couldn't help.

As they got to the hospital, both of them took Selena to the accident and emergency department and got her admitted straightaway. Neither of them could go with her, so they had to go to the waiting room and stay there with the walking cases.

"How long will they keep her there for?" Clara asked Chris quietly.

"I don't know, love," he took out his mobile, "but the stuff she'd be given isn't something you could get _anywhere_. She might end up being taken to a more specialist unit." He dialled Selena's mum's number and _hoped _that she'd be around to answer.

She felt so lost without Selena. It felt as though a part of her was missing. She made to reach over to her dad, wanting comfort, but before she could touch him he quickly disappeared outside. It was obviously something he didn't want her to hear.

****

Twenty minutes had gone by, and a nurse came over to them.

"Can we see her?" Clara wanted to know.

"I'm sorry," the nurse replied, "Selena's condition has become worse and she'll need to be taken to another hospital."

"But _why_?" She asked, clearly upset. "Why can't you help her?" Tears stood in her eyes and threatened to roll down her cheeks.

"She's gotten very sick," she stated softly. "This hospital only operates as an accident and emergency, and although Selena's condition is deemed as an emergency, we haven't got the medication here to treat her."

"Any idea as to where she'll _go_?" Chris asked. "There aren't a lot of hospitals around locally."

"No, there aren't." She admitted. "But she'll be going to a specialist cancer unit. The doctors transferring her there would be the best people to ask."

They both thanked her and she went back into the ward. Clara looked to him anxiously. "Did you get through to her?"

He swallowed hard. "Yeah, I did." He came over more weighed down.

"Dad, this isn't your fault." She held his hand with hers. "You haven't done nothing wrong. You did the right thing by taking her here."

Once they were told of where Selena was going to be taken, they got into Chris's car and waited for the ambulance to pull away so they could follow them.

"Is her mum going to go up and see her?" Clara asked him.

"I-I don't know," he dimly replied as he tried to focus on the road ahead.

"Well what did the doctors say?"

"Clara, I _don't know_," he stated agitatedly. "They just told me where she was going to go and for me to follow her ambulance." It wasn't his ideal way of spending a quiet morning with his daughter.

"I'm worried about her."

"Well, so am I, but for us to stop worrying I have to get us up there, preferably in one piece." He retorted. "I'm just as worried as you, but we can't do anything about it till we get there."

They got to the hospital and saw the ambulance pull into the drop-off area for emergencies.

"Why have they stopped there?" Clara asked Chris demandingly. "Has she gotten worse? Is she dying?"

He didn't reply but turned into a parking bay, keeping relatively close to the front entrance of the hospital. He chucked whatever cash he had on him to pay at the meter whilst she watched the paramedics wheel Selena out of the vehicle on a crash trolley.

"Dad, we need to follow her. They're taking her away." She grasped his arm and squeezed it to get him to get a move on. "Please, else we'll lose her."

"We _won't _lose her." He replied, placing the ticket in the car. "We can ask where she would be taken. We wouldn't be helping her if I take you there in the state you're in."

They got to the cancer unit and were told to wait for a doctor to come and talk to them. Eventually one came out and approached them.

"How is she?" Chris asked slowly.

"Not too good, I'm afraid," he replied, "but you were right in helping her to get admitted."

"I don't understand," Clara stated. "If nothing can be done for her then why did she need to be admitted?"

The doctor looked to him sombrely. "There's no easy way of putting this," he started. "Maybe it's better if you take her away and explain to her."

He took hold of the top of her arm and took her to a more secluded area.

"Why are we here?" She asked him dubiously.

He cast his gaze away from her, swallowing hard as he did so. He knew she was at the age where she knew the difference between life and death, but what was happening to Selena wasn't something that'd affect her everyday. "You _like _Selena a lot, don't you?"

"You _know_ I do," she replied softly, "she's my _friend_." _Maybe even more than that after what went on last night_, she thought to herself.

"She might not be coming out of here," Chris slowly explained.

She frowned. "Don't talk stupid," she retorted. "They can give her the medication and she'll be ok again."

"Well…that's the thing, love. They're not able to make her better."

Clara tipped her head slightly. "But they _have _to," she protested. "She can go on more chemo…"

"The form of cancer she has won't go away." He went on. "And it's making her too sick. To give her anything like that would make her feel worse."

She shook her head dimly. "So that's it?"

"They can stop her from feeling so bad," he reassured her, "but they can't kill any more of the cancer. She's taken a lot of chemo. Giving her more would put a lot of strain on her body. We both saw the state she was in earlier, right?"

"She _did _look pretty bad," she had to admit.

"She's been through a lot," he went on. "So the doctors are looking at keeping her here till she…" He baulked at having to tell her, knowing that what he would say would _hurt _her. "…Goes to sleep."

"I don't want her to sleep." Clara knew what that meant and it didn't make any difference to her how simply Chris had put it. Selena was dying, and the doctors were going to wait till she did.

"You don't wanna hear it, I know," he admitted, "but you might feel hard done-by after not knowing her for very long."

"You don't know the other _half _of it," she dimly retorted, prompting him to frown at her remark.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I _do _feel hard done-by, but it isn't 'cause I didn't know her for very long." She swallowed hard at having to tell him. She didn't want to tell him when both of them were in such a traumatic situation. "I didn't wanna have to tell you, especially not now, but…"

Chris's eyes had widened in surprise. He had a feeling he wouldn't like what she was going to say.

"Selena and I…we made love."

It wasn't unusual for him to say absolutely nothing for a few seconds. It was his turn to swallow hard and he heavily sat down on a nearby chair. "Y-you had sex," he wanted to clarify that for himself.

She nodded dimly.

"When was this?"

"Last night." Clara felt her cheeks burn at having to tell him, and she assumed that the way he was behaving meant he didn't like having to hear it. "We both wanted to do it, so that was what we did…"

He peered down at the floor. He could honestly say he did not feel anything. He didn't feel happy or angry – although the situation they were in could justify that.

"Dad, I'm sorry. I know that sleeping with another girl isn't what you wanted, but I like her and it felt so good."

"I'm not annoyed at you," he slowly stated. "It's up to you who you do it with."

She nodded slowly.

"When I met you I didn't have any expectations of you. I wanted you to _accept _me, which you did, and I wanted you to stay with me, which you did. But as far as sexual relationships go, I didn't wanna get involved in anything like that. I don't love you any less for sleeping with another girl, and if sleeping with girls is what you want, then I have no right to judge you."

"I just wanted to tell you," she quietly stated as they went back into the waiting room. "I was going to tell you at some point, I just didn't think it'd be as soon as the day after."

"Selena will take some time in coming round," the doctor admitted after he came to talk to them. "Her energy is very low but she's on fluids to correct that."

"You know much about the spread of the cancer?" He wanted to know.

"Well, we can only go on the symptoms she has," he replied, "but if she's flitting out of consciousness and back into it again we can assume it's affecting her senses. She has already been sick and so it's spreading very quickly."

"So she hasn't got long left," Chris assumed. He had to let Selena's mum know just how bad she was, knowing that there wasn't much guarantee of her making it through the night.

"No," the doctor came over more sombre as he peered through the window at where the blonde was kept, "not long at all."


	19. Chapter 19

Clara found herself alone in the waiting room. Her dad had literally disappeared out of the room after answering a call, and she peered through the window at where Selena was lying. She was hooked up to two IV lines, one in each arm, as well as a monitor, and she didn't look good at all.

"Her mum is going to come up here," he came back into the room, although he looked as though he wasn't staying around. "So I want you to stay here till I come back."

She nodded slowly. "Why, where are you going?"

"She wants me to meet up with her," he replied.

The dark-haired girl exited the waiting room once Chris had left, and went over to Selena's bed. She wasn't sure if either of them had been given clearance to see her, but she wouldn't have had much of a chance as time went on.

She stood by the side of her bed and took hold of her hand. It had been riddled with IV lines and cables and she could see that even the things that were keeping her alive were putting a strain on her.

Selena's mum soon came to the hospital, with the young male escorting her to the unit. "I didn't think it'd take such a short time to get to this stage."

"For some reason, it did." He was surprised to see Clara standing by the bed and was holding hands with her.

"I didn't want her to be alone," she shakily stated once he pulled her away from the unresponsive girl. "Can we stay till she wakes up?"

"We know that she won't," he stated firmly, "and her mum's here now. So we should leave them together."

"Chris, wait," a shaky female voice called out after them.

He turned round to see that Selena's mum had stood up and was gazing at him in a helpless sort of way. "There something wrong?"

She came closer to them. "I-I would feel much better if you stayed with me."

He darted his gaze to Clara hesitantly.

"Only if you didn't have anywhere else to be any time soon." She went on.

"If that's what you want," he came back over to her, "but I didn't wanna intrude. She _is _your daughter, after all."

She smiled softly. "You're sweet to feel that way." She placed a hand on his arm, so as to lead him back over to her even though he knew where he was going.

Clara could only watch what was going on between them, and, after deciding to leave them to their own devices, went to the hospital's café.

Chris had become unaware of the time that had gone by since he'd been sitting with Lauren. Selena was still unconscious, her weak body still processing the drugs that were being drip-fed into her.

"I know that sooner or later I'm going to have to accept that she won't be coming back," she slowly admitted.

"However long you want me to be here," he started, "I will not leave you."

Lauren felt the warm feelings melt in her gut from his reassuring words. "If only that stupid excuse of her dad were here."

"Well what would that have achieved?" He softly asked. "Do you really feel for him that badly?"

She nodded slowly. "I want him to feel what I'm feeling right now."

"But you know that even if he were here that wouldn't happen." He replied. "He sounds as though he didn't care about you – _either_ of you."  
>He jumped when he felt her hand around his wrist and squeeze him there.<p>

"I know that _you _do."

He said nothing to her answer and kept his gaze on the young girl's pale complexion.

"You've done as much as anyone could," she went on, "and I owe you for that."

"You don't owe me anything." Chris moved his gaze to the monitor, watching the lines on the screen go up and down. That was more reassuring to look at than the expression on Lauren's face at that particular moment.

Clara had spent an hour in the café, managing to find enough cash for a latte. She hadn't expected her dad to be with Lauren for so long, and she had no idea what the heck they were talking about. Something _adult_, she assumed.

She decided to go back to Selena's bed, and so she was more than a little bit surprised at what she saw.

Both of them were standing at the foot of the bed, with their arms around each other. Lauren was heard to be crying quite freely and was shuddering a sob off every now and then, whilst he was rubbing her up and down her back through her coat.

"You going to be ok to drive back home?" He pulled away from her, an air of worry clearly there on his features.

"I-I guess so," she wept, "but I don't know how I'm going to feel about being on my own."

He tipped his head in concern. "You don't wanna be left alone, is that what you're saying?"

She nodded slowly through tears. "I don't think I can face home after this."

Chris didn't move away from her. "You can stay with us if you wanted to," he offered. "Till she improves or at least opens her eyes."

She gazed back at Selena sadly.

"Lauren, she isn't going to wake up any time soon," he continued. "She's too weak. Give her another day or so and she might be better."

"The last thing I would want would be to impose on you," she replied, even though she was clearly thankful at his offer.

"You aren't imposing," he stated. "You don't feel you should be on your own and I don't think you should be either. If you've got nowhere else to go then you should come back with us."

"But where is she going to sleep?" That was the first question that came to Clara's mind as soon as they got back to their place.

"She can stay in my room with me," he replied, "so you don't have to move or go anywhere."

She frowned. "You don't really know a lot about her," she stated, "yet you're letting her stay in the same room as you."

"I can't let her be by herself," he admitted. "Not when she's so wound up. She's going through enough."

She folded her arms and stormed over to her bedroom window.

Chris decided to ignore her attitude and took Lauren into his room. "I don't mind if you wanna use my bed for a night or so."

"But what about you?" She asked. "I don't want you putting your back out for me."

He froze where he was. "W-well…the only other alternative is if we both sleep together." He saw her expression had come over sadder. "And it isn't as though I don't like you, but anything could happen if we slept together."

"I'll be careful," she softly smiled. "I won't completely strip and get into bed, if that's what you were worrying about."

"O-ok." Never before did he think he'd find himself in such a strange situation. He was sharing his bed with a highly traumatised woman whom he considered to be a _friend_. The oddness didn't fade when he removed his clothes in front of her.

Lauren had to be careful that her eyes didn't pop out of her head at the sight a few feet from her. Although he had his back to her, what she could see was quite a picture.  
>She could make out his strong shoulder blades, taking in the light as it defined the powerful musculature. For someone who was slightly short, he was a lot tougher than he looked when fully clothed.<p>

He slipped into bed at one side, clearly nervous at what was going to happen between them. He watched her take her leggings off and peel her cardigan off, yet keep her long line top on. It was almost as though she wore a very short dress, and he was happy for her to wear that as long as she felt comfortable with it.

She shakily slipped into bed next to him, deciding to keep her distance from him at a sociable width. Although they liked each other they were not sexually involved, and he didn't want any more of that.

"You feel ok to stay awake," he asked, "or do you want lights out?"

She looked to him carefully. "I don't know if I feel like going to sleep just yet."

"Ok," he noted compliantly, "I understand if you don't feel tired. You're going through a lot of worry and the last thing I would wanna do is force you to sleep."

"But you need your sleep as well," Lauren weakly protested. "What if I keep you awake?"

"Lauren, relax." Chris placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing her there comfortingly. "For one thing you're a guest. A second thing is I don't have to go to work, and a third thing is the last thing you would feel like doing is sleep."

She found herself shivering and she didn't know why. She didn't feel cold, and she thought for a few moments she'd gone mad.

"This takes as long as it has to." He went on, becoming more and more aware of her shivering. He didn't sense that she was cold and he could only assume that she was going through sheer worry. "Lie back down. You'll know when you wanna sleep."


	20. Chapter 20

The next morning, Lauren awoke to find herself curled up on her side.  
>Taking a few moments to regroup, she was glad to see that none of her clothes were removed during the night and that she'd kept her distance from Chris.<p>

She peered over at the young male in question, finding that he was no longer lying next to her. Looking over at the time, she was surprised that it was as late as it was.

He came into the room, prompting a wave of disappointment to crash over her at the realisation that he was no longer shirtless and had dressed himself. "Hey," he stated, "how do you feel?"

"A bit better."

He nodded slowly in acknowledgement. "I've just had a call from the hospital. The doctors say Selena's opened her eyes."

"_Really_?" She immediately sat up and set about getting up to get herself dressed, but he dropped in front of her so he could stop her and make her pay attention.

"There's one slight problem," he went on. "She's not fully conscious."

"But she can open her eyes," Lauren protested. "Surely that means that she is."

"She can open her eyes but she's not processing much else." He explained. "I wouldn't read too much into what I've been told, but there's not much chance of Selena pulling through this. You know that what she has won't go away."

"Can I see her?"

"S-sure." Chris didn't want to give her false hope and he was hoping that he hadn't have done that. But there was no easy way of telling her. Selena was going to die, but it was a question of when.

He took Lauren to the hospital and went straight to the specialist unit. They went to Selena's bed, finding her seemingly awake.

"I think it's safer if you remain quiet," the doctor explained to them, especially her mum. "She's not fully responding."

"But her eyes are open," Lauren protested.

"She's in what we'd like to call a _vegetative state_," he replied.

"What does that mean?" She turned to Chris, upset and shaken. "Please tell me what that means."

"It means that she's not as responsive as she would be if she were awake," he stated. "That doesn't mean to say she won't _ever _wake up, but as time passes she has less of a chance of a full or even a partial recovery."

"How do you know of this?" She demanded to know, suddenly coming over more perceptive. "Oh, I get it. You're my _go-between_, aren't you?"

"Well, I did happen to know a lot about this, whether I consulted a doctor or not." He replied. "The best thing you could do is stay with her. She mightn't be aware that you're there but she needs you with her. I'll leave you for about an hour or so." And with that he disappeared down the corridor.

Chris needed to go somewhere he could clear his head. Whilst he didn't know Selena as well as Clara, the whole situation was starting to get to him more.  
>He heavily sat down on a chair in the café, not knowing why he was there.<p>

"So you've been to see her, as well," a familiar voice to the side of him assumed.

Had he not have been sitting down he would've jumped a foot in the air. When he looked to see who it was he was surprised to find it was Clara. "Why are you here?"

She smirked to herself. "Morning to you too."

"I was acting as Lauren's escort," he dimly replied. "So how long have you been hanging around for?"

"Two, maybe two and a half hours."

He leant further forward on his chair, looking directly at her. "What did you say to her?" His posture, even his voice, accentuated more of a protectiveness towards Selena even though she belonged to someone else. What was angering him the most was that Clara could've said anything to her, without knowing just how ill she was.

"Wow, dad, lighten up." She retorted. "Selena woke up and I just had a little talk with her."

"She is _not _awake," he stated stonily. "She's still technically unconscious – and she might stay that way."

"I-I don't understand," she noted. "I went over to her and her eyes were open. Surely if someone was unconscious that'd mean their eyes would be closed."

"Her eyes are open but she's not using them." He explained. "That's why I took Lauren up here. So that if that was the only thing she was going to be able to do before she got worse, she was there to stay with her."

"It's all about you and Lauren, now, isn't it?" She supposed, darkly. "Why don't you both go off and get a room?"

Chris immediately got up from where he was sitting. "It isn't about me and her at all. I think it's becoming more and more about _you_."

"Well, I _did _sleep with her, that might've had something to do with it," she came back with. "And she is my friend – probably the only one I've ever had."

"You're not the one we should be worrying about," he came over more annoyed at her attitude towards him. "The one we should be worrying about is over there. So stop making yourself out to be the victim – the victim in all of this is _Selena_."

She watched him fly out of the room. "So now what are you saying? That you're not bothered about me anymore?" Finding that he didn't answer, she continued. "Ok, you know what? That's fine by me. If you've stopped worrying about me then I might as well _not come home tonight_!"

He felt her verbal barrage hurt a little, and he tried not to let that show as he went back over to Selena's bed. Lauren was still sitting next to her, caressing the back of her hand and whispering soft reassurances to her.

"She's still taking time out," she smiled softly. Her smile soon disappeared at seeing how weighed down the young male looked. "Are you ok? You look a bit peaky."

"Y-yeah," he slowly replied, "still a bit tired."

"Go home and rest," she suggested. "I can stay here with her till you feel well enough to come back up…"

"The thing is," he started, "I don't really feel that I should leave you here."

"Aww…" She smirked to herself at his answer, putting it down to him just being plain polite. "You _are _sweet."

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," the doctor's voice came from behind them, "but I find it only fair to go into more detail about Selena's condition."

"You want me to go?" Chris asked Lauren carefully.

"No, I want you to stay." She placed a hand on top of his. "You've been so good to me."

"I think it's better if you stay also," the doctor agreed, as he took out some papers out of his paper file. "We took her for an MRI scan to see how bad the cancer had spread."

He jumped at feeling her hand squeeze his.

"The cancer has spread to parts of her brain," he went on gravely, "that's why she's in the state that she is. Not only that, but we checked for brain activity whilst we were at it. I'm afraid she's not exhibiting any."

"W-what does that mean in simple terms?" She turned to the young male anxiously.

"It means that Selena is in a complete vegetative state," the doctor replied. "Because of the cause of the coma we can safely say she will not come out of it, and at some point we would need to stop supporting her."

She cried out in shock, prompting him to place his hands on her and make her settle.

"I'm so sorry," he went on apologetically, "we can do no more for her but monitor her condition and discontinue the support."

"Can I at least decide when you can stop?" She spoke up. "This is…this is a massive shock. And she's opened her eyes…surely that means she's _better_?"

"I wish I could tell you that she is, but she's not." He explained. "Selena opened her eyes as a _reflex_. She can't register anything. That was what we found on the MRI.

"We can let you make the decision for her support to be stopped, if that's what you want. But there will come a time when you have to realise she will not get better. She will only stay the same if you continue."

"We should go home," Chris suggested, helping her to stand. "Maybe think about this more."

"I've already thought it through," she stated once he got her in the car, "and I want her to continue receiving life support."

"But Lauren, you heard what the doctor said. Selena will not get better. The longer she's kept on life support the more false hope you'll end up getting." He looked to her softly. "I know I have no right to say any of that, but I'm saying that to you as a _friend_. I know that this is going to hurt you, but you'll end up hurting yourself more if you keep her alive. It isn't going to help her or anyone else."

"B-but she's my daughter and I _love _her," she protested weakly, "surely you understand that."

"I _do _understand," he stated, "but if you really love her, you would do the right thing and withdraw the support."

"B-but I would be _hurting _her."

"No," Chris placed a hand on her shoulder. "Withdrawing the support is what she wants. It would stop her pain. And they won't let her slip away and make sure she feels it. They would make her go to sleep and she would feel nothing."

She shook her head dimly.

"You are not hurting her or killing her by withdrawing the support," he went on. "She wants the pain to stop. She'll be in more and more pain as each day passes if you don't. And to be fair, if that were to happen to _my _daughter I would do the same. It'd hurt to decide to do it, but there is no other way to help her."


	21. Chapter 21

The next day at the hospital, Lauren was sitting at Selena's bedside. She hadn't dared asked the staff to remove the support, despite Chris's urging to do so.  
>She inwardly seethed at the suggestion. <em>He <em>wasn't the one with a terminally sick daughter, but he was a parent and he deeply cared about his own child.

"I've kept your room just the way you left it," she told her, attempting to sound bright and breezy, "so that when the doctors let you out everything would be back the way it was."

No answer.

"Then maybe Clara can come round and stay with you. She misses you. We _all _miss you."

No answer.

Lauren came over more distraught at her unresponsiveness. "Selena, I know it's hard for you to take in what any of us say, but I just want a sign that you'll be ok – that you'll get through this. Please wake up."

"Lauren, this is silly," Chris appeared from behind her and took hold of her around her shoulders, "can you not see what this is all doing to you? She isn't going to answer."

"Well she won't if I tell them to stop, would she?"

"I can tell them for you, if you want," he offered, "but I can't stand by and watch you get more and more upset. You're hurting inside, and that's what this is doing. It's feeding off of you. Let them make this stop."

"No," she mumbled into his t-shirt after he took her into an embrace.

He drew in a small sigh as he felt her arms wrap around his waist from her sitting position. What he was witnessing was in effect hurting _him_, and he had enough to deal with, such as a seventeen-year-old daughter who decided not to come home the previous night. "The staff here wanna help you. They wouldn't have suggested her life support to be withdrawn if they didn't. They can see what this is doing to you."

"I-I don't know."

He relaxed a little more. That was a better answer than before. "All I can do is promise," he continued. "I can promise that she will not be in any pain and she will just drift off, as if she's going to sleep. She won't feel anything."

"Ok," Lauren eventually agreed, "if it's a better alternative…"

Once a nurse had come to check on Selena's fluid levels, she took in her mother's weighed down appearance. "This is making you feel so bad," she pointed out softly, "I think it's kinder if we put her to sleep."

She looked to Chris, who looked back at her knowingly. "I think so too."

"Ok," she smiled comfortingly, "I'll let the doctor know and we can start the withdrawal." She disappeared from the ward and came back over to them.

"She won't be in any pain…will she?" She wanted to make sure.

"No," she reassured her. "We'll put her on a weak sedative and then gradually increase it. It's not going to hurt her, it'll make her go to sleep." She carefully swapped the IV replete of fluids with another that was filled with anaesthetic.

"See, I told you," the young male noted reassuringly. "I can stay with you till she goes to sleep if you want."

"I-I'd like that." She smiled weakly, thankful for his help.

When it came to early evening, both of them were still at Selena's bedside. Her levels were slowly dropping, but she didn't look to be in any form of pain. She looked very peaceful despite what her body had been put through.

"It's not going to be long now," Lauren supposed out loud, "is it?"

"No, not long." Chris had to agree with her. And he could see just by watching the monitor she was hooked up to that she was slipping away from them.

"I don't want her to go." She sadly noted, taking hold of her daughter's frail wrist and caressing the soft flesh.

"But you're going to have to." He could understand what she was going through – heck, he had a daughter of his own, why wouldn't he? "There's no other way of stopping her pain. This is what she wants."

Selena's levels completely dropped, and it was then that the lines on the monitor's screen spiked up and down before appearing rounder and flatter, and then…stopped.

Lauren immediately cried out as the nurse disconnected her from the IV lines and the monitor. The doctor quickly came over to the bed before ensuring she was well and truly gone. "Time of death…"

"No!" The older blonde wept out, watching her daughter's lifeless body become covered in a white blanket and carted off to the mortuary. She attempted to follow the convoy, but she couldn't do that with Chris keeping hold of her.

"They won't do anything with her," he reassured her. "They'll keep her there till you're able to take her."

"I-I have to take her now."

"No, you can't." He replied, not wanting to let go of her. "You're not in the right state to take her away. But they'll keep her for as long as you want them to."

"I don't want them to have her," Lauren tried to prise herself free from him, "let me go." His answer was to tighten his hold on her and hold her closer to him. "Y-you've got to understand, Chris, I have to do this."

"I understand the way you feel," he admitted, "I know that you love her and you feel you should be with her. I'm a parent too, Lauren, and as hard as this is going to sound, you're going to have to accept that she has to remain there. She'll be in a better environment, she'll be well protected…they're not going to do anything with her that you wouldn't know about."

"No, but they _will_ shove her in a _freezer_," she retorted.

"They _have_ to," he relaxed his grip on her a little, not wanting his hold to be too restrictive. "I can't make this sound or feel any better for you, but you've only just lost your _daughter_. It'll take a while to get through the loss…"

"'Get through'?" She reiterated. "What are you, a counsellor?"

"No, but I'm starting to wish I _was_," he assumed steadily. "Come back with me…there's absolutely no way I'm taking you back to your own place on your own – not after this."

"I won't get through this…"

"You will 'cause I'll help you." He wrapped his arm around her as they made tracks to leave the unit and exit the hospital.

Lauren sniffled slightly. "I don't want any drugs or therapy."

Chris smirked to himself. "You're really dead set on me being some sort of counsellor, aren't you?" He fished his car keys out of his pocket. "Well, I can assure you that I'm not."

"Then why let me stay at yours?"

"For one thing, I don't think anyone would wanna be on their own after losing someone they were close to. Secondly you didn't get a lot of sleep for the past few nights so you should catch up on that, and thirdly it'll give you some time alone…maybe talk if that was what you wanted."

She frowned as they both got into his car. "Talk about what exactly?"

He shrugged. "Anything you want." Despite his attention being almost all focussed on _Lauren_, he was still inwardly worried about domestic problems of his own. And he was worried she could _sense _that.

"You don't have to look after me," she dimly supposed out loud.

"I know what it's like to lose someone you're close to," he stated, his voice thick with hidden meaning.

"But Clara found you," she smiled a little, "so I know we can both relate but everything turned out ok for you in the end."

"Not quite," Chris started the car. "She's gone missing."

Her soft smile faded. "But…why? A-and…where would she have gone?"

He shrugged, drawing in a small sigh. "I don't know. She's done these disappearing acts before we moved and I thought she would stop. We have these fights and she would just…I don't know…disappear."

She couldn't understand how calm he sounded. But then again, it was something he'd been used to time and time again.

"I wish I knew why she does it," he went on. "I don't know it it's a form of attention-seeking or that she has these thoughts in her head that I don't love her."

"She can't think that," Lauren replied softly. "Why would she? You love her to bits. She's the only daughter you've ever had – you dote on her like mad."

"At first I thought it was some sort of anxiety…maybe even a form of post-traumatic stress from her last home. But I just…I don't know. It took a lot for me to make her open up the first time. I didn't think I'd have to end up doing it all over again."

"You should've said she was missing," she stated. "It's not fair on you if you have to go out and look for her."

"One thing I _do _know," Chris stopped at a red light, "is that she wouldn't have gone far. Not if she doesn't know her way around she wouldn't."

"We should look for her."

"But I have to get you back first…so you can catch up on your sleep."

She shook her head. "That can wait." She looked to him carefully. "And it'd be quicker if we look for her together."

Clara didn't like being grabbed at on the platform she was on. She felt strong hands pull on the short shimmering skirt that she was given and she didn't have it in her to swat them away.  
>She stumbled off the platform when she was due for a break, only to be stopped by her boss at the door of her room.<p>

"And where are you off to?"

"F-for a break," she hazily replied, preferring not to look straight at him.

"No, you don't," he stonily stated, "going out there and stripping is what you should be doing if you wanna forget about things going on with your old man."

"Everyone gets a break." Clara dared to come back with, her fright mounting when he took hold of her wrists with his hands. "So why don't I?"

He smirked darkly. "You want your break so much," he opened the door to her room and threw her onto the bed before shutting it behind them, "so I'll _give _you one."

She made to struggle when he threw himself on top of her, his much larger weight almost crushing her smaller frame.


	22. Chapter 22

"You said she didn't know where she'd be," Lauren reiterated as she was being taken down almost every single side street Chris could think of to look, "so why would she be down any of these roads?"

"She's more likely to stick to the streets," he replied. "They're lit."

Clara lay, heavily breathing, after her ordeal on the bed. The much larger figure stood up and a sharp zipping sound was heard in amongst the icy darkness. She felt so ill and sore, and she was sure she wouldn't be able to sit down for a month.

"Tell anyone about this," he warned darkly, "and I'll _kill _you. Slowly and painfully." He grasped hold of her arm and chucked her out of the building, into the side road.

"Y-you can't leave me out here," she shakily stated, already able to feel the cold through the flimsy skirt and top she wore.

"You're dispensable," he replied icily, "that's something I can live with." And with that, he closed the door to the back of the club and locked it.

Clara had absolutely nothing to shield her from the chilly air. A wintry breeze had picked up and she knew that as time got later it got much colder.  
>She felt sick to her stomach and the insides of her thighs ached from his forcefulness. Sharp jolts passed through her back at being held down and crushed on the hard bed and she wasn't sure if she'd be able to pick herself up in case her body went into spasm.<p>

She curled up on the pavement, unable to move, let alone think clearly. Her eyelids felt heavy – too heavy for her to stay conscious of her surroundings.  
>She could vaguely hear a car pull up. She could tell from the way the engine sounded. That was all she needed – some cops had found her and were probably going to get her done for drunken behaviour. That would've made her dad even less happy.<p>

She heard more than one voice, but she felt too out of it to bother wondering if they sounded familiar to her or not.

_"Is she hurt?"_

_"I don't know. She looks tired, though."_

She felt herself being carefully pulled up off the floor, sensing a pair of strong arms wrap around her petite body.

_"I was starting to think we wouldn't find her."_

_"Should we take her to hospital?"_

_"No, she's better off being taken home and put to bed."_

And then…darkness sank in.

Lauren was curled up on a sofa, fully aware of Chris making several trips to Clara's room within the past half an hour they'd been back for. "She won't instantly wake up, you know."

"I know," he admitted, "but she looked _frozen_ out there – especially since she was as good as _naked_."

"Well, she wasn't dressed in the most _serviceable _of clothes," she supposed out loud, watching him stand by a wall and come over very weighed down. "It wasn't your fault."

"I know it wasn't but why does she do it?" He wanted to know. "I thought we were _past _all that but she goes and does it again." He heard a dim, hazy voice emerge from her room and he quickly went to check up on her.

Sure enough, the young girl was stirring in amongst the warm blankets that were tightly wrapped around her. Her eyelids still felt heavy and the sick feeling was still there, but she relaxed at finding that she was in a more comforting environment.  
>She recoiled at feeling a few of her dark bangs being gently swept away from her forehead so that she could be tested for fever. A coolness swept over her skin before it faded away again.<p>

He kept himself perched next to her on the bed, unsure if he should say anything in case she couldn't hear him through the deep shock. He heard footsteps approach the room's door but he didn't look to see who it was.

"How is she?"

"I'm not sure." He replied quietly, looking back to her and cupping the side of her face. "I don't know how long it'll take for her to wake up."

"We both don't know what she'd been put through," Lauren reassured him.

"Whatever it was it couldn't have been good," Chris assumed, "I mean the clothes she was in weren't given to her _for fun_."

She came further into the room. "What are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting she came across some club in that side street where we found her. Either she went in there or someone took her." He raked through her long hair with his fingertips. "Why would anyone throw out a girl of her age, wearing something like that, into the freezing cold?" And he didn't say that simply because he was her _father_. He felt angry at whoever had treated her like that but he was also shocked.  
>A club of that sort was no place for her, and he was surprised at what some of those places got away with.<p>

"Has she come round at all?"

"She's _stirred_," he replied, "but she still seems quite bad." Although being in a warmer environment had thawed some of her chill she'd developed a mild fever.

"Maybe taking her to a hospital isn't such a bad idea."

"No," he looked to Lauren softly, "no more hospitals. She's been through enough of those."

"…Or getting a doctor round to look at her." He didn't react to her suggestion. "What if she goes through some form of shock?"

"Then I'll handle it."

"But you're not a _specialist_," she protested carefully, "no offence."

He lowered an eyebrow and looked back to Clara. "None taken." He took hold of her hand that was on top of the blankets and caressed the skin at the back of it.

"Chris, I know you love her, but it seems like you're refusing to get her proper help. I know you're dead set on helping her, but she could be in shock."

"I can't do that," he shakily replied, "not to my own daughter."

Lauren placed a hand on his shoulder. "You've always told me to put _Selena's_ best interests at heart, so why can't _you_ do the same for _Clara_?"

"'Cause she's not well _herself_." He directly stated. "Being in the condition that she is I can't let her be subjected to medication or therapy. And we moved here to get away from that."

She took her hand away from him. "So what were you intending on doing with her?" She wanted to know. "Don't tell me you've got some sort of alternative therapy planned for her."

"I haven't got _anything _planned for her," he noted. "Being with me is enough."

"All the time in the world you spend with her won't be enough to erase what had been done to her," she replied softly. "I know you don't want her to come to any harm, but smothering her isn't going to help. It'll make everything worse."

"I can't lose her," he stated steadily, "not like before."

Chris didn't move from his spot next to Clara on her bed. Through the late hours of the evening into the early morning he checked up on her fever, thankful that she was gradually cooling down. She was stirring a bit more but he couldn't work out if she felt hot internally or if she was waking up.

It turned out to be the latter, and she weakly leant up on the bed on her side before emptying her stomach's contents over the edge and onto the floor.

He couldn't reprimand her for feeling so ill, and neither he nor Lauren knew what she'd been put through. In all honesty he didn't expect her to vomit and so he inwardly kicked himself for not getting out a bowl ready for her.

Her eyelids still felt heavy, not allowing her eyes to adjust to the soft dimness within the room. Her stomach churned from the waves of nausea and she flinched from feeling something place itself on her back and caress her up and down her spine soothingly. "Dad…" She started thickly, feeling some of the vomit burn the inside of her throat.

"No more talking," he softly replied, "go to sleep."

"I-I feel so awful," Clara felt the need to continue. "I didn't even wanna _be _there, but he told me it was well-paid and I needed time to think."

"It's ok," he continued, "I know you feel bad but you're poorly and you need your sleep. We can talk about this later when you feel better."

"I don't _wanna_ talk about it later," she protested weakly, "I wanna talk about it _now_."

He drew in a small sigh. It'd take a lot of convincing on his part to make her do as he said. "I know you do but what you wanna talk about won't go away. And Lauren's here so I have to keep an eye on her too."

"L-Lauren?" She dimly asked. "Why is _she _here?"

Chris took a while to reply. "Selena passed away in her sleep earlier. I didn't feel as though I could take her back to her place so I said she could stay here for a few days till she felt well enough."

A wave of sadness crashed over her. "There was so much I wanted to say to Selena."

"I know there was," he replied quietly, "but she was still as poorly when we decided to let her go. She didn't wake up like we hoped she would, but then again there was no guarantee of that happening."

"Why did she have to _die_?" She came over more distraught and it was going to take a lot of time and effort to make her settle.

"Is she ok?" Lauren's voice came from within the doorway. Her voice sounded worried as she realised how distressed Clara was. "Does she want settling?"

He looked to her carefully. "She'll be ok." He rubbed her down her back after taking her into a hug. He literally knelt up on her bed with her in his lap. He felt her shiver off each sob against his body and he'd never known her so upset before. "Get some sleep, ok?"

"No," her voice came muffled with her face buried into his top, "I don't wanna sleep."

Eventually her agitation had tired her out and she begun to drift off against him. He kept the strokes going, waiting till she fell asleep.  
>He laid her down in bed and covered her back up with the blankets. "This is the worst I've seen her."<p>

He looked to Lauren, who remained where she was. "As for you, I think you should do the same." He assumed.

"Where can I sleep?"

He thought for a few seconds. He didn't want to be too far away in case anything happened during the night. And it wouldn't come to any harm if he shared his bed with her – she was in too much trauma for them to try anything like that. "Same as before."

She swallowed hard. "Y-you trust me that much to sleep with you?"

"I'd rather that than let you put your back out by sleeping on the floor or on the sofa."


	23. Chapter 23

Lauren should've felt nervous – well, she did in a way at being asked to share a bed with a highly attractive male for a second time but both of them were going through pretty heavy issues to even consider doing things with each other.  
>She <em>did <em>find Chris very alluring, but she didn't want to exploit him or his selflessness by trying to sexually involve him.

They lay in bed together, keeping a reasonable distance apart like before.

"I'm sorry," she said after some time had passed.

He frowned. "Why are you sorry?"

"This isn't fair on you." She made to get up out of bed, but stopped when he sat up to look straight at her through the lamp's soft dimness. "You've got enough to deal with."

"I can't let you go back to your place." He replied slowly. "You're not in the right frame of mind. You've been through a lot over the past few hours, if not days. At least stay till the time comes for her…_funeral_."

The "f" word was something Lauren hadn't considered. She broke down, prompting him to edge over to her and take her in his arms. "Th-this is happening all too quickly," she wept.

"It's something you haven't thought of, I take it," Chris assumed.

She shook her head.

"I'm sorry…I should never have mentioned that. But I don't want you to leave here when you're not a hundred per cent." He pulled her up against him, their bodies pressing together. "Is there anything you want me to help with?"

Clara awoke early the next morning. There was something comforting about the sun shining through the window and flooding onto her bed, and she remembered very little about what had gone on the previous night.

She got up, thankful that she didn't feel the urge to be sick like she was the last time. She was surprised to see that she was the only one up and she hoped that her dad hadn't gotten up already and left for work. He worked such odd hours and she didn't know what he did or why.

She came to his room, and she opened the door slightly to slip inside. He was curled up on his side from within his bed's blankets and she smiled softly at how cute he looked. She came further inside, going over to the side of the bed. She froze at the realisation that he wasn't _alone_.

Lauren was nestled up against him, with her front pressing into his back. She was also asleep and her arms looked to be wrapped around him, pulling them close together. They also looked to be _naked_.

Clara felt shock seize at her gut and she left the room quicker than she'd entered it. She went back to her own bed, not daring to stay up to hear anything further from either of them.

Chris woke up a little later, feeling a little better from having such a long sleep. The sun had risen slightly higher, shimmering a few of its rays through his window and onto the bed. He could feel the warmth through the blankets on top of him.

He jumped at feeling something wrapped around him, and he sharply turned round to find Lauren huddled up behind him with her arms around his waist.  
>He swallowed hard and pulled himself away before taking a better look at her. She was completely <em>nude<em>. If that wasn't bad enough, so was _he_.

Did they do anything the previous night? He had too much of a good sleep to remember, and that was one of many occasions when he wished that he hadn't forgotten.

Sensing the loss of contact, she inched back up to him, moving her arm across his flat stomach. He could only have construed that as an instinctive reaction, although there was no telling what she'd done to him that night.

Lauren's eyes flew open, gazing directly at him. "Hey."

"Hey," he nervously replied, sliding his tongue along his lower lip. He knew that was a nervous habit he was trying so hard to stop. "Sleep well?"

She nodded, smiling softly. "Yourself?"

"N-not too bad." He shakily sat up, feeling his head hurt at trying to remember what had gone on. His action prompted her to frown.

"You're not acting as though you had a good sleep."

"Waking up with no clothes on has sort of freaked me out," he stated. He looked to her carefully. "Do you remember much about what went on last night?"

She shook her head. "I remember getting very upset and then you hugged me. After that…nothing."

"Oh, no." Chris sharply got up out of bed. "I think we did it last night."

"Why do you say that?" She asked worriedly.

"'Cause we're both…you know…like this." He shakily got himself dressed. "It isn't as though I don't like you, Lauren, 'cause I do. I find you pretty but it's unfair for us to do things with each other."

Lauren nodded slowly. "It would've made us feel better if we did."

"That's as may be, but we're both going through a lot at the moment. A few more weeks down the line, it mightn't be so bad but you staying with me won't work unless we sleep separately."

"I should go," she got herself dressed also. "The last thing I would want is to exploit you and you've been so good to me."

"At least keep in touch," he suggested, "so that if anything is wrong you can let me know."

She nodded in acknowledgement. "I'm so sorry if I've upset you."

"No, you haven't." He replied softly.

She went over to him and planted a small kiss on his cheek. A warm buzz surged through her at the action but she had to withdraw from him.

"I can run you back to your place," he quietly offered, "if you want."

"Thanks," she replied, "I'd like that."

After dropping Lauren off to her place, Chris came back to see Clara curled up on the sofa. He was surprised to see her up, even more so to find her _awake_. "Been up for long?"

"Long enough to find you'd taken your girlfriend somewhere."

"She is _not _my girlfriend," he replied starkly.

"No, that was as plain as day when I came in to see you earlier and found you with…_her _like that."

"No, you've gotten that wrong," he stated. "We both don't know what happened last night but something did and that was why I took her back."

She got up off the sofa, still with her back to him.

"Clara, my only concern is with _you_." He went over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Nothing else matters but you. Lauren did want something to happen but soon not after what she'd been through."

"I thought you stopped loving me," she wept out, prompting his innermost anger to melt away.

He swallowed hard at what she'd said. "Was that why you disappeared like that?"

She nodded slowly.

"I could _never _stop loving you." He reassured her. "I don't know what made you think that but it isn't true."

"I-I thought that 'cause me and Selena…you know…had sex."

"Who you go with is not my concern," Chris told her carefully, "and neither is what you do with them. You're old enough to make that decision yourself."

She smiled slightly.

"If you don't mind me asking, what did it feel like?"

Clara couldn't help but inwardly tell herself what a perverted question for him to ask his own daughter. But it had been her first time and he wanted her first time to be one that made her happy – no matter who it was with or what they did. "Really good."

"How about we go out somewhere," he suggested, "maybe have a little talk?"

"What about?"

He shrugged. "Anything you like."

They both settled on going to a restaurant and they sat down at a window table, facing each other.

"Why did you wanna go out so much?" She wanted to know.

His answer was for him to reach over and grasp hold of her hand. "As I said, for us to have a little talk."

"We're happy, aren't we?"

Chris came over a little more sombre. "Clara, love, who you sleep with doesn't matter to me – as long as you wanna be with them."

"I'm not a lesbian, if that's what was bothering you, dad."

"Even if you were I wouldn't think of you any differently." His big, blue eyes came over a little softer. "I was thinking of moving back."

"But…why? This was what you kept on about – for us to live out here."

"I know but I think it's doing more harm than good." He replied. "And I'd be better off taking on a more stable job."

"That was something I've been meaning to talk about," Clara stated. "You never told me what you did."

"I didn't _want_ you to know," he admitted anxiously. "It wasn't a _bad _job as such but the hours were throwing my sleep pattern off."

She waited for him to say.

"If you've got to know I worked as an on-call social worker." He went on. "Most social workers work standard hours but I was more on standby during the hours they didn't work."

She frowned. "You shouldn't have to have a job that exhausts you like that," she noted, "what even _possessed _you to take on a social worker job anyway?"

He shrugged. "People at the school kept banging on about how I should have been one."

"That's stupid. You shouldn't have to listen to that. You were better working there as a teacher. That didn't mean to say I didn't approve of you leaving, as I knew you had personal issues with your _boss_."

"That's why I wanna get my old job back," Chris stated carefully, "if you don't mind moving away from here."

"Dad, whatever you wanna do," Clara took hold of both of his wrists, "I would be there for you no matter what."

_A/N - Wow, I didn't expect this one to have so many chapters! Thanks for reading and favouriting! Much appreciated! There is another one on its way! I promise!_

_Take care_

_xXx_


	24. Chapter 24

_A/N – after much consideration I've decided to keep this fic going. I don't know how I do it._

_xXx_

Clara felt a release wash over her when her and her dad got back to their old place after managing to secure it. "I thought this place would've been snapped up quicker than we _left _it," she joked.

"I can only take that to be a compliment," Chris teased back. He nearly jumped a foot in the air after she rushed up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I did miss this place."

"So did I." He placed a hand on the top of her head and tousled her dark hair affectionately. "This was where it all started for us – this'll always be thought of as your _home_."

She buried her nose into his t-shirt, taking in a deep breath at the fresh scent. "So when will you go back to work?"

"Not yet," he replied. "I don't start back for another three weeks, but I'm surprised I managed to get my old job back at all."

"You missed working there though, right?"

He nodded slowly. "I bet a lot of changes have happened after I left."

"Well," Clara started, "you don't have to worry about that for now, 'cause we can spend the next three weeks _together_." She felt her breath catch in her throat and she placed a hand on her chest.

Her action prompted Chris to frown in concern. "You feeling ok, love?" He knew that letting her help with some of the heavy lifting was a bad idea, no matter how well she felt.

"I'm fine," she breathlessly replied. "My chest felt a bit heavy – think it's from the lifting."

"Overdoing it again," he chided softly, "you've been doing that too often, missy. Go to bed and rest."

"I shouldn't," she weakly protested, not even bothering to resist him pulling her to her room.

"Yes, you should." He pulled the blankets away from her bed and got her to lie down. "Your body's not as strong as it should be and it's telling you to slow down. Do what it tells you for once."

She drew in a small sigh as he tousled her hair again before leaving her to sleep within the soft, dim duskiness that flooded the room. She'd felt breathless on and off and it was bad enough to make her pass out once – not that she told her _dad _about that. She didn't want him to worry and she hoped it was a one-off.

She turned onto her side facing the nightstand, peering at the picture she took of Selena weeks before she passed away. It was taken whilst they were out shopping together one day, and it was that same day they bought each other a glitzy pendant.  
>She insisted on wearing it for the photo, and it stirred strange feelings inside of the dark-haired girl.<p>

Clara slipped into a more reclined position within the bedclothes, thinking back to when she saw her in the hospital bed whilst being unable to fight through the illness that had spread throughout her body. She closed her eyes, letting off a small shiver at the reflection of what she went through. Nothing at that point in time would've compared to the pain she felt, but the nurses and doctors subjected her to the least amount of pain possible.

"I miss you," she quietly stated, sliding an index finger down the picture's frame, "we made each other so happy and I feel lost without you. I wish I was there for you when you…when you passed away. I might've been able to help you fight it."

"Clara," Chris could be heard outside of the room, "don't make me come in there. Get some sleep else you'll never feel better."

She felt her chest ache a little. She didn't _feel_ tired but her muscles felt so heavy and full of lead. She didn't do a _lot_ of heavy lifting but it was obviously too much for _his _liking. She suppressed a small cough, preferring not to make him come in to take a look at her before worrying about taking her to a doctor.

Chris set about getting Clara's medications ready for her to take. As she was on a course of weaker tablets she had to take them more often, and it was a job for either of them to remember the exact times they were due. She didn't like taking the things, but he kept reminding her that they were helping her to feel better and that was what had kept her going.

Her breathlessness was something he'd noticed now and again, but he could only assume it was from the heavy lifting. He was well aware she'd overexerted herself on a few occasions during the move back and he'd told her off a few times for putting out a few of her joints.

He heavily sat down on the sofa, knowing that he was doing all he could to help her. The medications were doing an incredible job in helping her but he was hoping that the breathlessness wasn't a side effect from them. Not after they had so much trouble with the previous ones.

Clara was jolted awake by sharp pains in her stomach. She immediately sat up in bed, leaning forward with her arms wrapped around herself. She moaned at how rough she felt, her noise prompting Chris to fly into the room.

"What's wrong, love?" He placed a hand on her back, knowing straightaway from her body language that her stomach was the cause of the problem.

"My tummy," she mumbled dimly, "it's cramping really bad."

"You wanna be sick?" He was ready to help her out of bed and get her to the bathroom.

"I'm not sure…" She replied weakly. "I don't know what I wanna do about it."

"Well, you can't stay in bed if your tummy feels bad." He pulled the covers away and whisked her out of bed.

She was taken to the bathroom and she dropped herself onto the toilet.

"Oh," he noted blankly, "y-you wanna do _that_." He got ready to leave her to her own devices as he considered her being on the toilet to be a private moment when her voice stopped him.

"Dad, I want you to stay here with me," she sounded extremely distressed, "I think this is why my tummy feels bad."

The last thing Chris wanted was for his daughter to be distressed. He dropped down next to her and placed a hand on her tummy – anything to alleviate the painful cramps she was experiencing.

Clara felt her hips and backside hurt as the cramps edged further down into the pit of her gut. The pain was enough to make her feel sick, and she was sure she wouldn't be able to get off the toilet from the discomfort.

After she'd finished the movements, she remained on the toilet seat, breathing heavily from exertion as her father continued the comforting massage around her tummy. "I feel so weak," she admitted.

"I'll get you some water," he suggested. "You're probably thirsty."

"Maybe I should take my meds now."

"You're not due any for another hour," he replied. "We had enough trouble with the previous ones. We've done fine with these up to now."

"My chest feels heavy again." She got off the toilet once she'd sorted herself out and she flushed before washing her hands. "I wish I knew why I feel so bad."

"Maybe we should think about seeing the doctor," he supposed, realising with shock at how weak she actually was.

She coughed a bit, stunning him into silence at the action.

"You've had a cough as well?"

"I didn't wanna worry you," Clara admitted before launching into a more uncontrollable fit. She felt her ribs burn and she had to lean forwards over the toilet to clear her throat.

"Clara…" Chris quietly started, getting her to stand more upright once she felt better.

They peered down to see that her throat's contents were tinged with red.

He swallowed hard, getting her to look at him. "Y-you've been coughing up blood."

She felt the heaviness in her chest subside, but a strange metallic taste lingered in her mouth.

"I can't leave this any longer," he went on. "You need to get seen _now_."

They went to the nearest accident and emergency room and were immediately taken to a doctor.

Clara was asked to sit down on the bed, whilst the doctor examined her chest with a stethoscope.

"Take in a few deep breaths for me," he instructed softly. He pressed the stethoscope in a few more areas around her chest. "You sound a little congested."

"'Congested'?" Chris reiterated. "Is that why she's like this?"

"Has Clara recently had a cold or flu?" He asked him.

"No, neither of those." He replied. "She suffers from rheumatism and she started getting a really heavy feeling in her chest. Sometimes to the point of getting _breathless_."

His reply prompted a frown from the doctor. "It sounds as though she's developed _pleurisy_– an inflammation around her lungs."

"I don't understand," he admitted. "I've done everything right in making her better. I give her medication when she's meant to…"

"This isn't from anything you've done," he reassured him. "Pleurisy is fairly common in rheumatic patients and it can be treated. Has she had any other symptoms?"

"She's had problems…_down there_. Not waterworks, the other one."

His answer made Clara shoot him a dodgy look, as if to ask him why he sounded so reluctant at discussing perfectly normal bodily processes with a doctor.

"You've had problems with your tummy, have you, sweetie?" He assumed. She nodded weakly. "Ok, well, I would need you to give me a sample and then we'll take you for an MRI scan."

"Dad…" She turned to him worriedly, gasping handfuls of his jacket.

"It's ok, they won't hurt you." He placed his hands around her wrists. "And if anything goes wrong they'll know how to help you."


	25. Chapter 25

"How are you feeling in there, love?" Chris asked from outside the small room in which Clara was taken to get dressed into a gown.

"Ok, I guess," her voice came out a little thick from nausea, "still nervous." She emerged from the room, with nothing but a starchy white garment that swamped her petite frame like a blanket.

"Well, you're bound to be," he took hold of her hands and caressed the backs of them with the tips of his thumbs. "But they're not going to be far away if anything goes wrong."

The nurse came up to them so as to take her to the MRI scanner. "I'm afraid you won't be able to wear anything metallic whilst in the scanner, Clara."

He realised she was still wearing the pendant Selena had bought her and he knew why she hadn't removed it. It held a lot of sentimental value, but rules were rules.  
>Knowing that she wouldn't take it off herself, he set about doing it for her. She batted him away in resistance. "I know you don't want this taken off…"<p>

"I can't have it taken away," she protested.

"The thing is, love, you need to have this removed else they won't be able to see what's going on inside of you. It won't be apart from you for long, only a few minutes if that." Chris stated steadily. "I'll give it back to you as soon as it's over, I promise."

Clara drew in a small sigh and nodded in agreement. "Ok."

He went behind her and undid the necklace from around her neck. It was then that the nurse took her to where the MRI was and helped her onto the bed.  
>He waited by the room's door, watching her struggle to get settled when a wrap covered in foil was placed around her hips.<p>

The nurse approached the door to talk to him. "Can you help her settle?"

"Can I do that?"

She nodded slowly. "It's quite safe to do so, although she may need a sedative before she's inside the tunnel. She's not claustrophobic, is she?"

"Not that I know of." He went over to his daughter, who tried to jump off the bed. "It isn't over yet, love."

"Why not?"

"'Cause they want you to relax." He took hold of her shoulders and tried to make her lie down, but she wasn't co-operating.

"I don't wanna be in a tunnel," she cried out, throwing her arms around him, "unless you come in there with me."

"I can't do that." He placed a hand on her back. "I want you to be brave for me. Nothing will happen to you in there."

Clara resignedly lay down on the bed with the foil wrapped more tightly around her. He took hold of the hand that was on the same side as him and caressed the soft skin on the back of it. "I don't want this to hurt."

"It won't," Chris watched the nurse get the sedative ready. He didn't want to separate himself from her but he knew he was going to have to. "You won't feel anything, I promise you."

She flinched when the needle went into the back of her hand. "That _did_ hurt," she replied in a low voice, "and you _promised _me it wouldn't."

He smirked to himself. "You can get me back for that later," he noted teasingly.

She soon fell into a deep sleep, and he tousled her dark bangs before leaving the room with the nurse behind him.

Clara drifted back into consciousness some time later, only to find herself lying down on a bed in a small room. Her head pounded from the forced sleep she had, and she peered to one side to see Chris sitting next to her.

"Hey," he noted softly, taking hold of her hand that wasn't hooked up to an IV line, "how do you feel?"

"Well, I've felt better," she dimly replied, looking to see that she was linked up to a heart monitor.

"Doctors wanted to make sure you came round ok after you were put out," he explained once he realised she'd noticed.

They didn't have to wait long for the doctor to enter the recovery room so he could check up on her condition as well as explain the MRI results with them. "Good to see you're awake," he smiled softly.

"Is she ok now?" He wanted to know, holding onto her a little tighter.

"You've done the right thing in taking her here," he started. "She's going through pleurisy, as we suspected, and that's only on account of her rheumatism. That can be treated with medication."

"That's what's causing the chest pain and…everything else?" He frowned.

"Believe it or not, yes." The doctor replied. "It's a build-up of fluids, mainly ones like mucus and blood. That was why she'd been coughing up blood, but we caught it in time and she can go on a short course of medication that won't interfere with what she takes for the aches and pains she gets."

"…And then she can go home?" Chris asked anxiously.

"Well, we might need to do a few more cautionary tests so we can be sure the medication we'll get her to take will work. Then she's all yours."

"_More tests_?" Clara turned to her dad, her overall appearance fraught with worry.

"We should do what they say," he assured her, "after all, it isn't much good being discharged from here only for you to get sick again. And you might not be here for much longer, maybe another hour or so. We all want this gone, don't we?"

She nodded sadly and laid back down in bed.

"She doesn't wanna be here," he admitted.

"I know, and I can't think of anyone who _would_ want to be here," he softly stated. "I'll only get Clara to take _one _dosage of the medication and all that'll happen is I'll come round in an hour to get a blood sample – just to make sure it's doing what it should."

Once Clara was given the all-clear and a short course of medication, they were both directed on how many she should take, how often and how long before being allowed to go.

"Feels like we've been in there for a whole week," Chris stated, half-jokingly, relieved when he realised they were only in the hospital for three hours.

"You look tired," she noted, seeing his under-eye areas had darkened a little, "and it's all 'cause of me."

"Don't talk stupid," he got to the car and unlocked it, "you needed to get seen here and it was a good job you did. You could've gotten _sicker_."

"You must be tired, though."

"I'll probably be out like a light once we've gotten back, if that's what you mean." He switched the engine on. "I don't _feel_ it now, but I guess it's 'cause I've been worried stiff about what was going on with _you_."

She peered down at the floor, sensing the worry in his voice.

"I don't want anything to happen to you," he went on. "If you ended up in the same sort of state that Selena did, I would've blamed myself for it and I don't think I'd have forgiven myself."

"But what was going on with Selena was something even her _mum _couldn't stop, and you shouldn't have to blame yourself even if what I'd be sick with was something you could've stopped," Clara placed a hand on his thigh. "Dad, I know the way you feel about me. It's ok. I'm better now."

Chris drew in a small, barely audible sigh and set about getting both of them straight home so they could go to bed and sleep.

When they got home, he waited till she got dressed for bed before helping her lie down in amongst the blankets.

"You look worn out," she reached out and cupped the side of his face, allowing the tip of her thumb to skim along one dark circle under his eye. "You need your sleep as well as me."

"I will sleep once I know that you'll be ok," he replied slowly.

"I'll be fine," she softly reassured him. "I feel ok now. The medication's working so far so you don't have to worry about anything."

He nodded in acknowledgement and pressed his lips to her forehead. "I love you."

"I know you do," she wrapped her arms around his neck, "I love you too."

The next morning, the early morning sun shining its rays in through her window greeted Clara. She loved feeling the warm glow on her body through the blankets. It was therapeutic to her.  
>She couldn't hear any signs of life outside of her room, despite her dad leaving her door ajar the previous night in case she felt sick or wanted to sleep with him. But then again he never made a point of getting up early when he had no work to go to.<p>

She got up out of bed, thankful to feel no aches or pains anywhere. She quietly slipped into his room and slunk into bed at the unoccupied end.  
>She wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek, startling him awake. She giggled impishly at his reaction, feeling him flinch to start with before giving a small jump.<p>

"What's going on?" He dimly asked, realising after a short time he wasn't alone. He peered over to find himself looking into a pair of piercing green eyes. "I thought as much."  
>He flipped onto his other side to face her. "Couldn't sleep?"<p>

A smile had quirked across her mouth. "It's gone nine in the morning, dopey."

Chris didn't know what to say at being labelled 'dopey' by his own daughter, but he decided to overlook it. She obviously wanted to tease him, but after being awoken he didn't feel like teasing her back. "Feel like going anywhere?"

She shrugged. "Not really."

Through the leftover tiredness he heard his mobile vibrate on his nightstand, and he made to read the message that came through.

"I hope you weren't sending any messages last night, you naughty boy," she teased a little more.

"I was too tired for any of that," he replied vaguely, his attention mainly focussed on what he was reading.

She nodded in acknowledgement, realising he wasn't playing along with her teasing. She wrapped an arm around him, feeling that much closer to him when he was without a top.

"What's come through is from Lauren," he went on, "she wants to know if we were up for going to Selena's…you know…_funeral_."

Clara's body froze and her eyes came over a little glazed over.

"We don't have to if you don't wanna, but you _were _mates with her."

"It isn't that I don't wanna go, but there'll be people around us that we would barely know." She replied.

"Is that all that's bothering you?"

"I guess," she shrugged.

"But we'll be there for one reason and that is for _her_," he assured her. "If we go it might be a form of closure for you. You didn't see her when she…passed away, but you'll be able to see her _now_."

"Ok," she agreed. "We should go – for _her_."


	26. Chapter 26

Exactly a week later, Selena underwent a burial. The small coffin that contained her was lowered into the ground, before Clara dropped her bouquet that her dad got for her on top of its lid.

"You sure you wanted to do that?" Chris frowned after she pulled away from the vault's edge a little. His question prompted her to look to him and give him a strange look. "I'm not saying you shouldn't have done it, but you could've just put them on top of her headstone."

"And you're an expert when it comes to funerals, are you?" She icily shot back, tearing herself away from him and deciding to loiter around the tree that was towering over her grave. It was almost serving a makeshift shelter for it when it rained.

He drew in a small sigh, unaware of Lauren approaching him from behind.

"Don't take what she just said to heart," her voice startled him, making him almost jump a foot in the air, "she's grieving, like most other people are."

"Places like this," he noted nervously, "kind of make me a little jumpy."

She smiled sadly. "I think you mean to say they make you a little jumpier than usual."

He raised an eyebrow at her reply, wondering if the way he was behaving at the funeral was how he _should_ have. "I'm sorry," he stated after some time had passed, "it's just that I didn't know her that well and Clara _did_. It's been _ages _since I last went to a funeral."

"Don't worry about it," she reassured him gently. "How do you feel about coming over to my place for a bit?"

"I don't know…if I should…" Chris replied, doubtful, causing an expression of concern to flicker across the young mother's face. "It isn't that I don't _wanna_, but surely you'd want time to yourself?"

"To be fair," she came closer to him, her long blonde hair fluttering behind her in the icy breeze, "I think I'd feel better if it were just you and I."

He swallowed hard, looking over at where his daughter was, which was by Selena's headstone. She was sliding an index finger along its top in a despondent way. "O-ok," he agreed.

"Ok then," she smiled a little easier that time, "so I shall see you both there." She swiftly left him, and he went over to Clara.

"Let's go then," he noted quietly, unsure of exactly what to say in order to get himself back into her good books.

"Why, where are we going?"

"Lauren said we could go to her place for a little bit." He slid up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"I don't wanna go."

"I know you miss her, love, but staying here and waiting for her to come back isn't going to do it," he softly explained. "She isn't coming back."

"You don't understand," the dark-haired girl stated dimly, "and I thought you did."

Chris lowered an eyebrow at her remark. "I _do _understand," he replied. "I understand that you're going through a rough time at the moment. Clara, I know what it's like to lose someone. Don't think I haven't had the same situation as you.

"Staying here isn't going to help you, and especially not her. I can always take you here whenever you want me to, but right now…think about yourself. That's what everyone else has done, so why can't you?"

She tore herself out of his grip. "'Cause I _loved _her, that's why."

"So? There were other people in the congregation who loved her just as much as you did."

"B-but we _shared_ something," she noted weakly. "We _made love _together."

He went over to her again. "It's getting cold out here. The sooner you get in the car, the better."

"I don't wanna go to Lauren's," Clara's voice was hard and stony, "I wanna go home."

Not wanting to completely fall out of favour with his daughter, Chris took her home, knowing that she could let herself in with her own set of keys.  
>Of course he could understand what she was going through, she'd lost someone she was extremely close to. But what it made it all the more harder to appreciate was that she hadn't lost <em>just anyone<em>.  
>She'd lost someone she shared almost anything with.<p>

He got to Lauren's place, where she freely let him in. "No Clara?" She asked questioningly when she closed the front door behind them.

"No," he replied slowly, "she'd gotten a bit tired." He couldn't get over how convincing his little fib sounded.

"Oh," she noted sadly, "poor girl." She took him through to her lounge. "Have a seat."

He sat down on the nearest sofa, wishing he could just curl up and fall asleep right there. It was so comfortable and spongy, and he was sure if he tried to get up out of it he wouldn't be able to. Although that in itself wasn't a bad thing…

He snapped to. He had to tell himself he was _not _there as a cop-out for going back to his own place and having to face his grieving yet volatile daughter. He was there as mutual support and nothing more.

"Did you want a drink?" She peered round the doorway at him. "That's if you were intending on staying for a little bit."

"If that's ok," he leant further forward, "I can always help you if you want."

"No, that's ok," her voice floated out as she disappeared from view, "I know I've just suffered a loss but that doesn't render me _incapable_."

Five minutes later, she came back with two cups of tea. "I didn't know how strong you liked yours," she admitted, "sorry."

"Oh, I'm not fussed," Chris thankfully took his from her. He noticed her slender yet well-proportioned frame take on a more weighed down appearance as she sat down on the sofa next to him. "How have you been keeping?"

She smirked to herself wryly. "Don't tell me you're standing in as my _doctor_."

"No," he replied, "but you don't look good. You look as though you haven't slept in a month of Sundays."

Lauren inwardly laughed at his answer. "What does that mean?"

"It means I don't think you've gotten a lot of sleep."

She put her cup on the table in front of them. "Things haven't been easy for me since Selena passed away," she managed to suppress a small sob. "Even when she's not here…"

He could tell she was starting to break down in front of him, and it was something he did not like to see. She was a tough person, but inside she was allowing her defences to break down and reveal her inner façade. Concern overtaking him, he prised himself off the sofa and dropped next to her. "This isn't fair," he noted bluntly, not really saying that to anyone in particular.

She looked to him, her eyes glistening with tears. "What isn't fair?"

"This," he placed his hands on her shoulders. "You've had to deal with this all on your own and for a parent of your age…"

"Are you saying I shouldn't have _coped_?"

"Not at all," he squeezed her softly. "All I'm saying is that there should've been someone to help you. And there hasn't been."

She nervously darted her gaze away from him.

"Has there, Lauren?"

Lauren felt a strange twinge in the pit of her stomach and she closed her eyes. "_You've _been there for me."

"I'm only here for support though."

She shook her head softly. "Not quite."

"I don't understand," Chris admitted. "I thought you didn't wanna be alone…"

"I _don't_ want to be alone," opening her eyes, she cupped the side of his face with one hand, "I _do _want you here for support, Chris, but I want you to make me feel better."

He smirked a little, not really catching on. "That's what I'm _here _for."

"I think you know what I mean," she pulled him closer to her, almost bringing him down completely on top of her. She felt herself flush at feeling one of his hips brush against hers. She had to control her excitement.

"Lauren," he made to pull himself free from her embrace, "I can't give you that."

She peered up at him, an expression of disappointment crossing her features.

"You're suffering a loss," he went on, "and you're probably not thinking straight. Why else would you want me to…_do _that?"

"I do _like _you, if that was what you were worried about," Lauren explained, "but we're both going through a rough time."

"It won't _change_ anything." After managing to regroup he retreated back onto the sofa he was on. "Selena will still be…you know…not here. Clara would _still_ not be happy with me, so…" _Oops._

"So Clara _wasn't_ tired, as you put it?" She assumed steadily. "You _lied _to me."

"I lied 'cause I didn't want you to think I was a bad father," he admitted. "All through the funeral today, she's been volatile. One moment she'd be ok and the next she'd start on me. I don't know what it is I've done, but I want it to stop.

"I'm sorry if I lied to you, but I knew you'd ask as to why she wasn't with me when I showed up. It wasn't as though she didn't wanna come, well, she didn't, but it was nothing personal on her part, I promise you."

Lauren nodded in acknowledgment. "You're not a bad father at all," she reassured him, "you put _Selena's _dad to shame a hundred times over, that's for sure."

Chris made to shrink into the sofa and hope it would swallow him up when she came over to him and sat with him.

"I feel bad and you feel bad, and we both have felt _something_ for each other. So why don't we take this someplace else?" She pulled him closer to her again. "Someplace else like…_in bed_?"


	27. Chapter 27

From within the warm bedclothes, the pair peaked together before the young male dropped on top of her, unable to keep himself up any longer from excitement.

Lauren drew in a relaxed sigh, feeling the waves of excitement ripple through her body. She wrapped her arms around Chris's back, letting her hand press into it and push him further into her. At that point in time pleasure was the only thing in helping to dull her pain.

He closed his eyes, his broad chest pressing down onto her more voluptuous one. He didn't know how many times they'd gone or for how long they'd been at it, but he felt very sleepy and that was his cue to go – before he did literally black out. "I should get back."

"Are you sure?"

"With the state Clara was in earlier, I don't really like the idea of going back as late as tomorrow and finding her in an even worse state." He sat up in bed, making some sort of effort to get up, when he felt two hands on the tops of his arms.

"Leave her," she replied softly. "She's at the age where you can afford to leave her to her own devices for one night. As long as she looks after herself by taking her medication when she's meant to, what's there to worry about?"

He peered down at the floor quietly.

"I know there was one time when she disappeared but she didn't plan on upsetting you. Chris, there's got to come a time when enough is enough."

"I can't stop looking after her, Lauren," he slowly stated.

"I'm not asking you to stop looking after her," she answered, "but you've to let her go."

"'Let her go'?" He reiterated, a small frown appearing on his youthful features. He had _never_ intended on letting Clara go. His only daughter – his beautiful little girl.  
>There was nothing <em>little <em>about her, she was seventeen going on for eighteen. But she'd lacked so much love that he just wanted to keep giving her that – making up for lost time, in a way.

"I know it sounds and feels foreign to you, but she might feel better if you're not on her all the time. Maybe that's why she's behaving the way she is. It could be her way of telling you she doesn't want you there all the time anymore."

"But we've spent so much time apart," he stated. "To let her go now would be…I don't know. To me it'd feel wrong."

Lauren came over a little more pensive when he set about dressing himself. "Is there something you're not telling me about Selena and Clara?"

"Something like what?"

She didn't say anything for some time. "How did she react when you told her that Selena had…"

He pulled his t-shirt back on. "Well, she was _upset_, of course. Who wouldn't be?"

"Yes, but how upset?"

Chris cast his gaze away in a surprised way. "How much is _too_ much?" Going by his own experiences at the school, he knew that some girls had special relationships with each other. Clara's relationship with Selena _was _special and it's one she'd probably not forget.

"I need to know," she pressed him, "please, I…don't give me cryptic answers."

"It's not as though Clara forbade me to _tell _you," he noted, "but it's something she would find very personal."

"My daughter is _dead_," she stated shakily. "I think I have a right to know what they did."

He lowered an eyebrow at her. "Well they didn't _fight_, if that's what was bothering you." Prompting no response from her, he continued. "They were very close. That's all I can tell you."

"That's not good enough."

He drew in a small sigh, feeling his defences break down despite him wanting to keep Clara's relationship with her a secret. "They shared everything with each other."

"You don't have to soften the blow," Lauren replied slowly. "They had sex, didn't they?"

He said nothing but zipped up the fly on his trousers.

"They did…didn't they?"

"And you're going to hold it against them for doing it," he assumed, "or are you going to hold it against _me _as well? Why don't you blame all three of us?"

She shook her head. "I'm not out to blame _anyone_, I…" She sat up in bed. "It often bothered me how Selena was never interested in the boys at school before she got really sick. I thought it was from the medication she was on, but everything else going on with her was fine. I just didn't suspect anything…how could I have?"

"Lauren, Clara was not attracted to her," Chris replied, "they both wanted to make each other feel better when they had a sleepover at ours. She had _feelings _for her, sure, but there was no attraction."

"Is that why she didn't want to come over?" She wanted to know.

"No," he softly answered, "she wasn't happy with me and she'd gone off the idea of going anywhere. I may've fibbed about her the last time, but not now." He set about getting his jacket back on. "I should see if she's ok. Given her illness I'm not sure what state I'll find her in."

Clara _hated _the overpowering scent of the dye she'd used. That was one of the reasons why she was put off using them in the first place, if not for the fact that she'd always liked the way she looked.

Luckily, she didn't have long to wait but unfortunately she didn't expect to have to be confronted about it as her bedroom door opened and a slim figure stood in the doorway. She quickly shoved her towel over her head, hoping that the other person hadn't have noticed.

"You're sitting in the dark," Chris pointed out, "don't you want the light on?"

"No, not really," she rashly stated.

"What exactly are you doing in the dark anyway?" Ignoring her reply he switched the main light on.

"I didn't want it on," she shot at him, "or are you _deaf_?"

He came further into the room. "What's happened?"

"_Nothing_," she icily stated, knowing that she was unable to escape from his fixed gaze on her.

"It doesn't _look _like nothing," he bent down next to her on the floor, looking squarely into her piercing eyes. "You couldn't have stayed here the whole time, not when you were unhappy with me."

"I _am _unhappy with you," she replied, darting her gaze away from him, "I just hoped you weren't going to come back when you did…"

"So you're hiding something from me, is that was this is?"

Clara said nothing but cast her gaze over to what the time was. It was gone over the duration she should've left the dye on her hair. She got up from where she was sitting so that she could set about washing her hair through.

"And now I'm _invisible _as well as deaf," he continued, following her into the bathroom and watching her unwrap the towel from around her head. He froze in sheer horror at the state he found her in.

Her hair was no longer the shimmering brown colour he loved. It was a very rich, deeply set red.

Trying to avoid taking in the intoxicating scent of colorants that had soaked into her hair, he swallowed hard and came closer to her. "Why did you do that?"

"Why do you think?" She retorted. "I got fed up with my colour, so I decided to change it."

"No, you didn't," he stated knowingly, "you changed it on purpose and it wasn't 'cause you were fed up with it."

She drew in a small sigh as she made to position her head over the bath to use the shower to rinse the dye out. "Think what you like about it."

"You didn't _need_ to change it," Chris kept on, "and you've _never _told me you didn't like it anymore."

"If that's what you think."

"Yes, it is," he started to feel a little sick from the scent that lingered in the room. "People don't do things like this impulsively. I know why you did it." He loitered outside the room so he could clear his head.

"I'm just…so annoyed at myself," she dimly admitted. "Everything about me…I _hate _myself."

"Dyeing your hair doesn't change who you are," he explained, "and it doesn't make you feel better either. I know you've lost someone and I know you were close to them, but…coping like this is not helping."

"Have you got any _brighter _ideas then?"

On that note, he disappeared out of earshot and all that she could hear was the sound of the flat's front door closing.

Swallowing hard, she hesitantly continued to rinse the dye out of her hair.


	28. Chapter 28

It was some time since Chris came back to the flat. He knew that within that time whatever Clara had done wasn't going to be fixed _instantly_, but he knew she didn't mean to do that to herself. He could easily have said it was the worst thing she'd done, as she was trying to change her identity – and it was almost as if she was trying to dissociate herself from him.

He found her in her room, realising that she was pulling a lot of her clothes out onto the bed, the majority of which left nothing to the imagination and he knew she'd gotten those when he was not there with her. "That colour's coming out," he stonily stated, going straight over to her.

"I'm old enough to make my own decisions, you can't tell me to take it out," she protested.

"Well, it is 'cause I've got something that'll _make _it come out." He took hold of her and made to take her into the bathroom, as she tried to squirm free. Of course she wasn't as strong as him and she struggled a few more times before giving up.

She'd never made him _extremely_ angry and she wasn't sure if he was like that with her or not.  
>When he told her off at times, there was a firmness in his voice but not a strong sense of it. That point in time, however, he <em>did <em>sound extremely angry.

He closed the bathroom door and locked it before removing his long sleeved top, revealing a shorter sleeved one underneath. "Now get over the bath," he instructed.

Clara positioned her head over the bath, scrunching her eyes shut at feeling some of the warm water spray onto her. Even when he swept her hair over to one side, it wasn't enough to protect her from the splash back.

She cried out at feeling something cold and runny seep into her hair and through her roots. It didn't hurt, but it was a shock of extremes – first warmth and then coldness.

"I was right to come back when I did," Chris stated, lathering up the rest of her hair. "Of all the thoughtless things you've done, this is probably your worst."

"I-I didn't _mean _to make you angry with me," she tried to protest, feeling the water and dye residue run down the sides of her face, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't quite cut it," he replied stonily, trying hard not to breathe in the overpowering dye remover. Even the sight of the dye diluted with water was enough to put anyone off. It looked as though blood was dripping off her head, into the bath and seeping down the plughole, as it was bright red.

Clara was taken back into her room and her hair towel dried. She felt as though she'd been sapped of some of her power – what she'd tried to create by herself had been broken down, though she didn't get very far.

Chris had grabbed a spray bottle he found on her desk, covering her hair with it in an attempt to erase the lingering scent of the hair dye stripper if not to replace the moisture. He knew how damaging dyes and removers were. "I know you don't want me to do this…"

She sulked as he untangled her hair with her comb. She couldn't help but think he was lucky not to see the sullen look on her face.

"…But you will thank me for it at some point."

Once she was dried completely he set about helping her to get ready for bed. For her to stay put was a no-brainer. She was agitated and still annoyed at him, but he was sure a bit of loving was all she lacked.

She reluctantly slipped her nightclothes on, and sat very quietly on the bed. She didn't want to look straight at him, still feeling surges of anger swell through her.  
>She flinched a little at him taking her into an embrace, wishing she had the strength to escape from it.<p>

He buried his nose in her sweetly scented hair, the front of his body pressing into hers from behind. "I love you," he spoke softly, "please don't stay annoyed at me."

She drew in a small sigh, prompting him to feel the slight rise and fall of her chest from within his hold. She knew she loved him too, but she thought he understood exactly what she was going through. "I know that my relationship with Selena wasn't what you wanted to have to find out…"

"But I accept what you did," Chris cut her off reassuringly. "It doesn't make you dirty, or weird – at all. You both felt a connection. It doesn't worry me who you fall in love with – as long as they love you."

Clara didn't fully take his words on board, preferring to remain a little dubious towards him. "What did Lauren say?"

"Does it matter what she said?" It didn't occur to him until then that the reason she did what she did might've been through fear of ridicule. "Are you really that worried about it?"

She glumly cast her gaze away. "I don't know anymore."

"Your final dosage is due now," he noted, "so I'll go and get you that. Then you have to sleep."

She slipped into bed once he'd disappeared from the room, pulling out her laptop that her mum had bought her – one of the very few things she got for her before she left home. She folded it open, realising that she had a few emails from other kids she'd spoken to about losing Selena.  
>It was something she'd promised herself not to tell him at that point in time – he probably would've told her to stop, so she decided to keep her activity well hidden from him.<p>

She heard him come back, and after sending a quick reply to one of them, slid her laptop back under the bedclothes.

"Here you go then," he gave her the fairly large tablet before handing her a glass of water, "in your own time."

She reluctantly swallowed it down, taking in big mouthfuls of water after she'd done so.

"I think you're getting better at taking those."

She glided down in amongst the blankets, allowing him to take her partially full glass so that if she was thirsty during the night she knew where it was.

"Clara, love, I know you're not entirely happy with me," he started carefully, "and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not understanding what you felt for her." He knew that her silence was simply because she did not know what to say to him. She was a little annoyed but not so much after hearing him apologise.

She was close to drifting off, and both of them knew that the medication she was on had sedative properties – that on top of the fact that her condition sometimes exhausted her. Her eyes softly closed, and she was sent into a deep sleep.

He drew in a small sigh, cupping the side of her face from his perched position next to her on the bed. She'd completely relaxed and he was sure it was the first time he'd seen her that relaxed all day.  
>He gently swept her dark bangs back into position, thankful that he managed to get her hair back to its original colour. He knew full well she was capable of doing something so drastic, but not to <em>herself<em>.

It wasn't long before Chris started his old job back at the school. He went straight to the office, surprised to see Janeece and Tom talking amongst themselves.

"Sir," she breathed, "you've come back."

Tom immediately went over to him and threw his arms around him. "We didn't think you were coming back."

He pulled away from him, a small frown adorning his still youthful features. "You mean to say no one's _told _you?"

He shook his head. "We've been without a Head for the past three weeks," he explained. "None of us knew what happened to him…so I've been doing two jobs instead of one."

"Well, _that's _helpful," he stated dryly.

"Enough about _us_, how are you and your girl?" Tom pulled him to one side.

"We're around about the same," he replied, "though we're both glad to be back here. Things at the new place got so complicated."

The stockier male patted him on the arm supportively. "We can talk later. We have to start work now."

"That's a point I wanted to bring up," Chris noted carefully. "Where _am _I going to work now I'm back?"

Tom thought for a few moments. "Well," he started, "we don't have a Head at present, and I've taken on your role as Deputy after you left."

He tipped his head to one side attentively.

"I guess we should make you the new acting Head for now."

Chris wasn't overly bothered about taking over the school's running for the time being.  
>The only things that <em>did<em> bother him was the fact that Janeece did not stop fussing over him, although he was sure it was because she'd missed him and was happy he'd come back. Though he couldn't think _why_.

"Want another top-up, Sir?" She chirpily asked, poking her head through the door without so much as knocking first before entering.

"Another what, sorry?" He peered up from what he was writing.

She approached his desk and gave the cup she'd bought his latte a casual shake. "Same again?"

"Oh, I see." He stopped what he was doing and sat back in his chair. "Sorry, my mind's elsewhere at the moment."

"Maybe another one to wake you up, yeah?" She offered. She frowned at seeing him come over a little tired, and he'd only been working for an hour and a half.

"I guess another wouldn't hurt," he assumed, looking to her dubiously. "As long as you don't _mind_."

"Not at all," she smiled softly. "It's the least I could do now that you're back."

He lowered an eyebrow at her sidling behind him and taking hold of his shoulders, allowing her thumbs to gently manipulate the powerful muscles there. Whilst he would've happily questioned her actions, he couldn't help getting relaxed from the massage.

"And that you're _in charge_." Her lips were dangerously close to his cheek, almost making him jump at the realisation that she could quite easily have _kissed _him from her leant-over position. Luckily for him she backed away and withdrew from behind him. "Well, someone's got to look after you."

He watched her go before returning to what he was writing. He could only construe her actions and her behaviour towards him as being _friendly_ and nothing else. After all, he felt she was a little young for him and possibly not on the same page, and secondly he owed a duty of care to _Clara_. But then again his own daughter wasn't exactly a _baby _anymore, and maybe Lauren was right.

Maybe she _didn't _want to depend on him as much anymore.


	29. Chapter 29

At the end of that day, Janeece stayed a little later than usual, leaving just her and Chris on the same floor together. She loitered in the room's doorway, inadvertently catching her gaze of him from _behind_. She could make out the firm, powerful muscles of his shoulder blades, admiring the undulations they created under his shirt.  
>"S-Sir?" Her voice came out thin and shaky and she hoped it was from the amount of caffeine she'd consumed and <em>not <em>from the sight in front of her.

"You're still here?" He turned round to look at her, an air of worry clearly showing on his face. "You should've gone twenty minutes ago, you know. And shouldn't you pick up Cheryl?"

"I-I can spare a few more minutes," she anxiously replied, "as long as _you _can."

He peered at the time. "Sure. Whatever it is that's bothering you, if it can't wait…"

She smiled a little, coming further into the room as he offered her to sit down.

"What's bothering you exactly?" He frowned at noticing her shivering a little, and he knew full well it wasn't because it was cold.

She swallowed hard, preferring not to look into his big blue eyes. "Y-you would think I was being petty."

"Not if it's a personal issue," Chris placed a hand on top of hers, "and it's something you want help with."

"M-my boyfriend _ditched _me," she wept out, suddenly bursting into a flood of tears.

He did _not_ anticipate her to break down in such a way and he was unsure of how he should initially _comfort _her. She was upset, but he didn't consider them close enough to engage in any body contact. "Janeece, I'm sorry," was all he could say at that point in terms of support. "Were you with him for very long?"

Janeece had leant over, her small yet curvaceous body convulsing with each sob. "Three years," she managed to say once she felt able to talk, "he's Cheryl's dad."

Her situation was something he could so easily relate to, and that drew him closer to her. Not knowing what else to say, he placed a hand on her back, rubbing her there, as more tears forced their way through from behind her eyes. He could empathise with her completely.  
>He understood situations where parents became estranged – his case with Clara's mum was almost identical, as was Selena's mum with her partner. "If there's anything you want me to do for you…"<p>

"A-anything like what?" She looked to him with red, watery eyes.

He smiled a little, before getting a tissue for her. "First of all, I think you need this," he playfully stated, handing it to her. "Are you having any form of trouble with looking after Cheryl?"

"Why do you say that?"

"For a start, I think you've spent so much time looking after her you're not looking after _yourself_." He noticed two deeply concentrated dark circles under her eyes. "You should get a babysitter…or get your mum to look after her for a bit while you get yourself sorted."

She shook her head sadly. "Mum's not very well," she dimly replied. "The last thing I would wanna do is burden her with Cheryl."

"The guy you were with," Chris noted, "did he come by and help you out with her?"

She nodded. "Not all the time, only on a few days. Mostly towards the end of the week as that was when I got more tired from work."

"…And there's no one else you can turn to?" He wanted to get that part crystal clear.

"No one else, no."

He thought for a few moments. "I could come over on the later days of the week to help you out with her," he suggested slowly, "but there are two provisos I wanna put in place."

Janeece's eyes widened and she smiled a little more. "Go for it."

"Firstly, I'm doing this for you as a friend. Secondly when I'm there that means I'm letting you take time out."

"Are you sure you can handle her _on your own_?" She asked worriedly. "She _can _be a bit troublesome at times."

"I'm sure she'll be ok," he replied reassuringly, "it wouldn't be the first time I've dealt with a little one."

Clara hung around outside the building, waiting for him to come out. Eventually he did. "You took your time," she noted icily.

"I now work as the acting Head," he steadily replied, "so I won't always be able to come out the same time as everyone else."

"Well, yeah," she shrugged as he unlocked the car, "ten or fifteen minutes later would seem a bit more reasonable, but _twenty-five _minutes?"

"Something came up," he got into the driver's seat and waited for her to get settled in the seat next to him.

"…And it was obviously something that couldn't wait," she assumed.

Chris frowned at being probed by his own daughter. "Don't tell me you had a lesson in _interrogation _at some point today."

"No," she replied, "I just don't find it fair that you spent so much time trying to help someone when you should've come out the same time as everyone else."

"Well, tough," he shot back at her. "When I stand in as a boss and people feel they can come to me for help, that's what happens. It's called _prioritisation _and when you've grown up enough, maybe you'll find out what it is."

Clara was taken aback at his comeback. She assumed he'd had a rougher day than she thought, and simply said nothing to it. She shrank in her seat, and the pair remained in silence throughout the drive home.

When they got back, Clara immediately flew into her room and shut the door. Not that Chris was particularly bothered about stopping her or following her to find out what was going on with her. He figured it was still from losing Selena, and he decided to leave her to her own devices. Grief was a natural process and in time she'd recover.  
>Time to herself was probably all she wanted, and she was giving mixed messages as to whether she wanted him to be there for her or not.<p>

She emerged from her room sometime later, wearing her nightclothes. That to him was nothing unusual, as she did that when she felt tired or wanted an early night.  
>She slipped onto the sofa where he was, preferring to perch on the other side so as to deter any affectionate actions from him. She'd taken her laptop with her, with its screen fully up.<p>

"You haven't eaten since we got back," he vaguely noted, "don't you want anything?"

"I'm not hungry," she stonily replied.

"Not even when you take your last lot of meds?" He suggested. "Taking them on an empty stomach isn't good for you, you know that."

"What are you, my doctor?"

"No, but that was sort of what the doctor said." He felt compelled to get closer to her, but he knew it wasn't what she wanted. She was positioned like that for a reason, and it was clearly to keep him away. "I know you don't want me to overprotect you all the time, but this isn't the right way of going about it…"

She peered up at him from above the laptop screen. "Is that why you think I'm _like _this?" She asked him, incredulously. She went back to what she was typing. "Then you're even thicker than I thought."

He decided not to take offence to her remark about him being _thick_. "So why are you like this," he casually wanted to know, "if you don't mind me asking?"

"Actually I _do _mind you asking," Clara glared up at him, not fazing him at all from the dark, stony hue in her eyes.

"I don't get it," Chris stated, "you behave as though you've got an issue with me, yet you won't come out and say it."

She drew in a small sigh. "I don't feel comfortable in telling you," she sharply sat up and snapped her laptop shut, "in fact, I'm done for now. Hopefully I won't wake up in the morning."

He made to notify her about her dosage before she went to bed, but she was already onto that.

"Oh, and I'll take the stupid medication," she shot at him, "only to stop you from keeping on at me."

During his lunch break the following day, Chris sped up to the doctor's surgery. It was the only other time he could go up there during work hours, but he was hoping he wouldn't be there for too long.

He was lucky to even see the right doctor.

"What can I do for you?" He asked him softly.

"I'm worried about Clara," he replied. "I think something's wrong with her."

"Ok, well, you _are _her carer so I can discuss her case with you," he brought up her notes. "What specifically is bothering you about her?"

"The medication she takes," he started, "what side-effects do they have?"

"Chris," the doctor looked to him reassuringly, "she is safe on the ones she takes. The side-effects are minimal." He frowned slightly. "Would you rather she gets retested, to put your mind at ease?"

"She's been acting strangely," he explained. "She recently lost a friend to terminal cancer and that's hit her pretty bad. But…she'd been taking a lot of anger out on me and I don't know why."

"The tablets she takes _can _cause mood swings, but she hasn't been on them very long for that sort of thing to happen. Grief, on the other hand, can affect people in different ways and it can make them susceptible to anger. Have you tried talking to her?"

"I've tried that," he sounded close to giving up, "but she clams up the minute I suggest her talking to me."

"The only other thing I can suggest is a mental assessment on top of a retest," the doctor supposed, "at least that way she would open up to a stranger and not yourself."

"She _would _twig at being taken to see some therapist though," he replied.

He shrugged. "Explain that it's a follow-up for her condition," he suggested, "she might come quietly that way."

As he parked up outside the school quarter of an hour before the end of lunch break, Chris saw Clara hanging around on her own. She was sitting on the top step, her overall posture a little weighed down and beset with hidden feeling. He went over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Are you ok?"

"What does it matter to you?" She mumbled dimly.

"Oh, good. So you're feeling a little better then," he unhanded her and went in through the front entrance. He knew full well that he'd find out what was hassling her when she had to go to the surgery. Either that or it'd inadvertently come out in the open that night.


	30. Chapter 30

Through her next set, Clara couldn't help but wonder why she noticed her father come back from driving out somewhere during lunch break. It was something he didn't do very often, although she'd seen him do it once or twice whilst taking Karen out when she worked there – but he was on his own that time.

Chris came back to the room he was staying in for the time being and heavily sat down behind the desk.  
>He couldn't concentrate, knowing that he had a heck of a job at trying to persuade his daughter to go with him to the surgery. And her attitude towards him was no better.<p>

"Feeling a little peaky, Sir?" Janeece's voice came out a little songlike, and he tiredly peered up to see her come into the room with a latte she'd gotten for him. "Looks like you could do with this."

"Th-thanks, Janeece," he thankfully took the drink from her and took a few big mouthfuls of it.

"You _did _need that," she remarked, her posture coming over a little coy.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"What days are you able to cover?"

"To cover for what, exactly?" He put the drink to one side.

Her eyes widened in shock. "To baby-sit _Cheryl_."

"Oh, of course." He mentally kicked himself for being so forgetful. "I am so sorry. My memory has been like a goldfish's the past few days."

She smiled a little, managing to relax. "That's ok."

"I can cover for you Thursdays and Fridays," he went on, "if…that doesn't cause any problems for you."

"No, that's fine." She replied. "I'm just happy that you're able to come round and look after her at all."

"I might have to switch days the following week, though," he noted apologetically. "I have to take Clara to the doctor next Friday."

Janeece came over a little concerned. "Everything ok with her?"

"Oh, just a minor issue," Chris didn't want to bother her, "nothing to worry about."

"_You _seem like you're worried about it."

He peered up at her and thought for a few seconds. She _did_ come to him for help, and so it'd only seem fair he did the same back – even if he _were _her boss for the time being. "She's been picking fights with me," he explained, "so she's going up there to get some checks done. Mainly a blood test and a mental assessment."

"But she _is _on medication," she assumed. "It could be from that."

"You'd think so, but the doctor says she hasn't been on the meds long enough for that to happen. She's gone through a lot over the past few weeks."

"I'm sure that she'll be ok," she went over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, "and once all the testing is over she'll be back to her normal self."

"I hope so," he replied dimly.

Thursday soon came round, and Chris partly explained to Clara why he was not going to take her home at the end of the day. "I have to go and help someone," he told her, "so I'll be gone for a few hours."

She nodded blankly, not knowing where to look.

"You know where your medication is," he went on, "so I want you to take them when you're meant to. I don't want them left, 'cause I know how many there are."

"If that's what you want," she shrugged. She couldn't believe he had the audacity to keep a close watch on her by counting her tablets.

"Clara, it isn't up to me whether you take them or not, I can only _advise _you. Don't go blaming me when you feel achy one day 'cause you didn't stick to the timings. That doesn't make it my fault." He got his jacket on, ready to leave for Janeece's flat. "I shouldn't be any later than nine, ok?"

Janeece opened the door to Chris and freely let him in. "You've got your work cut out at the moment," she smirked playfully, tipping her head towards Cheryl, who was happily asleep in her hold. "Give it another hour or so and she might make things easier for you."

"I'm just happy to help," he replied, allowing her to close the door behind them and escort him to her lounge.

"How are things with your daughter now?" She sat down, careful not to wake the small, sleeping mass.

"No better," he sat down next to her. "Something's wrong but I'm glad it'll get sorted next week. I hope she hasn't got some form of a _grudge _against me."

"Well, you're here now," she noticed her little one stir and she got up to heat some milk up for her bottle, "so you can relax."

"Where are you going?" He asked her.

"I have to get her some milk," she replied. "I can always make us a drink if you wanted one."

"Well, if you're going to do that," he got up also and came closer to her, "you might need a free pair of hands."

She happily handed him to her, taken aback at how relaxed and comfortable he was holding her. "H-have you…?" She started, her question tailing off from surprise.

"I'm not new to this, if that's what you meant," he sat back down with her in his embrace. She stopped her stirring and settled down in amongst the blankets she was swaddled in.

"S-so that drink," Janeece tried again, "did you say you wanted one?"

The time quickly slipped by, and Cheryl didn't stir for another two hours. Her deeply set brown orbs opened and looked straight up at Chris attentively.

"She likes her sleep," he teased a little, "don't you, missy?"

"She's giving you an easier time than your _own _daughter, I bet," Janeece supposed.

"You wanna swap?" He asked half-jokingly.

She gave him a playful tap on his thigh. "You don't mean that," she smirked.

"No," he fed the little one with what was left of her milk, "no, I don't mean that." He watched her eagerly suck at the remainder of her feed.

After that, she gave a few squirms in amongst the blankets, and to them she seemed uncomfortable.

"You wanna go back to sleep, sweetie?" he asked in a singsong voice.

"I don't think she's tired," Janeece stated, "I think she needs _changing_."

"Aren't I a lucky boy?" He set her down on the floor, looking to her mother questioningly. "Is here ok?"

She nodded. "Wherever is fine."

"Could you…get rid of the old one first?" He was ready to cover his nose with the neckline of his t-shirt in anticipation of the scent, when she nodded in agreement.

"As long as you do everything else."

Once Cheryl was changed and put to bed, Chris wanted to stay for a little bit longer with Janeece. "That wasn't too bad."

"You only say that 'cause I got rid of her _old _nappy for you, cheeky," she smirked. "Next time I might make you do it all yourself."

"She's so well behaved," he pointed out, "either that or she's being easy on me."

She smiled to herself and set about taking their empty cups out. "Want another?"

He looked at the time. It was quarter to nine. "I should go," he replied apologetically, "but thanks anyway."

She saw him off, with her standing just inside the porch area and him on her doorstep. "You've been ever so good with her tonight," she told him incredulously, "thank you, Sir."

"Hey," his eyes gave off a subtle, cat-like shimmer in the outside lights, "save the formalities for work, ok?"

"O-ok," she darted her gaze away from him, swallowed nervously and looked to him again. "Thank you, Chris."

"That's better." He placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing her there supportively. "So I'll see you at work tomorrow."

"Ok," Janeece slid her tongue along her lower lip nervously, watching him go.  
>So many things were going through her mind. She didn't know if she liked him enough to do anything <em>sexual <em>to him, but she didn't want to find out in case it was something he did not like. She wanted to repay him yet she didn't know how.

Chris made to unlock his car and went to get into it, when her voice from behind stopped him.

"Chris, wait."

He turned to her, a small frown appearing across his face. "Something wrong?"

She was standing so close to him that she could take in a sweetly musky scent around him. He smelt so good and she was sure he felt as good as that, but she had to control herself. She didn't want to exploit him. "I-I forgot to give you something."

"Something like what?" He refrained from opening the car door, his attentions fixed directly on her. He looked to her with a mixture of concern and worry.

She pulled back a little, fearing that if she did what she meant to, it would come out as a completely different action. "It can wait," she gushed anxiously.

"Well, to me I don't think it can," he inched the same distance forwards as she did backwards.

She drew in a shaky breath and swallowed hard, her eyes on his. She felt the pit of stomach become weighed down with butterflies, and it was tearing her apart inside. "I only wanna do this as a _friend_," she admitted, leaning forwards and planting a kiss on his cheek.

Chris didn't freeze, flinch or pull away from the action. Instead he closed his eyes, relaxing into the kiss despite it being a _friendly_ one and not a _romantic _one. He didn't quite believe the sincerity in Janeece's voice, but he happily accepted her gift of gratitude.

She pulled away, sensing a warm tingle on her lips from the kiss. "That was my way of saying thank you," she breathlessly admitted, allowing him to set about making tracks to go home.

"You're welcome," he dimly acknowledged, before getting into his car and driving off down the road.


	31. Chapter 31

Friday started off as any other morning of that week during the drive.  
>As soon as they'd parked up, Clara got out of the car and made to storm off into the school. A hand grasping her around her arm and pulling her back stopped her. "Ouch," she exclaimed, glaring up at the perpetrator. "You could've dislocated my arm."<p>

"Don't talk stupid," Chris told her warningly, "I didn't even come close to hurting you."

"Are you going to tell me where you went last night?"

He frowned. "I didn't think you would wanna know," he stated. Achieving little response from her he decided to continue. "I was seeing a friend."

"Friends see each other during the night, do they?" She shot at him. "You're lying to me, just like how you lied about what you were doing with Selena's mum." She managed to pull herself free and fly off through the car park.

He could quite easily have left their altercation at that, but he knew that what was going on with Janeece and himself didn't come within an inch of what he and Lauren did that one night. "Young lady, come back here now."

Amazingly, she stopped by the front entrance, only for him to grab her by her arm again and take her up to the room in which he was occupying in the interim. He took her inside and shut the door, despite no one else being in at such an early time.

"I wanna make one thing clear to you," he stated warningly, "this behaviour towards me isn't going to last much longer."

She smirked wryly. "Is that a _threat_?"

"No," his eyes took on a firm yet not harsh appearance, "I would take that as _advice_."  
>Out of the corner of his eye he saw a few more cars pull into the parking bays. "You should go."<p>

"I was _going _to," she retorted, "before you manhandled me up here."

He drew in a small breath as she stormed out of the room and left him by himself.

Janeece rushed into the room later that morning, her eyes wide and worried. "We've got a problem, Sir," she stated anxiously.

Chris peered from what he was writing. "What sort of problem?" He noticed the panic in her eyes and he sat back in the chair. "Janeece, what's happened?"

"Th-there's a woman outside to see you," she explained, "she says she wants to talk to you."

He went down to the main entrance, seeing a familiar blonde female standing outside. He went to her, instantly knowing who she was. "L-Lauren," he shakily noted.

She sharply turned round to look at him. "I had to come here and see you," she uneasily admitted, her hands immediately going to his wrists.

"O-ok, well, you can do that now. You've found me and I'm not going anywhere." He inched back towards the entrance. "We can talk about this…that's what you want, right?"

Lauren was taken to Chris's room and offered to sit down.

"Want a drink?" He asked.

She shook her head. "No thanks."

"You've come an awfully long way to see me, you know," he said admittedly, perching himself against the table. "Driving here must've taken you a good hour or so."

"I can't cope," she explained shakily. "I know you must be saying to yourself that I should've gotten over it ages ago, but it's so hard."

"No one is expecting you to get over it just like that. I've never had the misfortune to lose a _daughter_, but I can't start to imagine what you're feeling." He replied, his voice thick with empathy. "But you _will _start to recover, maybe not so at first, but eventually."

"I'm surprised _Clara _took it so hard."

He quickly cast his gaze away. "Clara's an impressionable girl. That on top of the fact that they _did _share something strong between them."

"I bet I can guess what _that _might've been."

Chris darted his gaze back to her. "You can think what you like about my daughter, but you can't just come here and not condone what she did. She had feelings for her, and that to me is not a bad thing."

Th-they _had sex_," she noted, her voice laced with disgust, "how can you stand there and say what they did was ok?"

"'Cause I accept her for who she is," he replied steadily. "What they did was not out of love or sexual feelings, Lauren. They empathised with each other and they wanted to make each other feel better. And at that age it's normal for girls to go through a phase of seeing each other's bodies and enjoying it."

"So where did they _do_ it?" She asked bluntly. "Surely Clara must've _told _you."

"Why should she?" He didn't know where this conversation was leading to, but he could tell Lauren was still suffering her loss. He heard it from the doctor that grief manifested itself in many forms, and he could easily see that for himself.

There came a knock at the door, and Janeece came into the room. "Sir, I hate to interrupt, but your daughter wants to talk to you."

"So she _does _come here," the blonde woman stated roughly.

"Look, whatever it is you've come here for, leave her out of this," he noted selflessly. "It's me you want – not my girl."

"She was the one who _violated _my Selena – why should I leave her out of it?" She flew out of the room, finding Clara nervously sitting on one of the chairs by the window. "You dirty little tart."

"Leave her," Chris grasped one of her arms, "she hasn't done anything."

"What made you think you could take my daughter round your place and do those things to her?" She managed to slap her hard across her face, eliciting a pained cry from her.

He felt a wave of guilt crash over him, seeing her curl up on her chair and press a hand to her cheek where an angry red mark had appeared.

"Sh-should I call security, Sir?" Janeece supposed.

"No," Chris managed to grasp hold of Lauren's other arm, levering both of them behind her back, "this is a _personal _issue." He managed to walk her out of the building and it was then that he released her.

"We could've _had _something, Chris," she stated slowly. "Did that night mean nothing to you?"

"It did mean _something_," he replied offhandedly, "till I found out what you're like." He made to go back inside when she refused to leave the premises.

"I had to hit her," she relentlessly stated, prompting him to peer back at her in shock, "I wish you understood that."

He quickly flew up to her. "You had no right to hurt her," he stonily warned, "she's been through enough."

She knew she had him well and truly upset, and she was very sure she could've forced a hit or two out of him. But that would've been too easy. "You're right, she _has_ been through enough," she slowly replied, "guess I'll have to settle on _you _instead."

"Where's dad?" Clara shakily asked, not intending on leaving her chair for fear of receiving further anticipated hits.

"I don't know," Janeece replied softly, hearing footsteps approach them from downstairs.  
>The two girls breathed a sigh of relief at seeing Tom come through the room.<p>

"I heard a lot of shouting outside," he explained, a frown crossing his features, "is everything ok?"

The three of them heard several skids, a small bang, and then the sound of a car speeding out of the car park.  
>Peering outside, they couldn't see anything for the few blind spots on the ground, but one thing they <em>did <em>see was a dark MPV speeding off.

"I think something's happened," Clara noted shakily, suddenly feeling sick with worry.

"Janeece, stay with her," Tom instructed, "I'll go outside." He ran down the stairs quicker than he went up them, and emerging from the main entrance he noticed a slender figure lying on the ground. Terror and shock seized at his gut at the same time, as he approached the body.  
>He bent down and tried to suppress the sobs he could feel welling up. "I-I'm sorry," he managed to sob out, "dear God, I am so sorry, mate."<p>

"Sir, I couldn't hold her back any longer," Janeece spoke behind him, "where's Mr Mead?"

"I want my dad," Clara cried out helplessly, "where is he?"

"Janeece, take her back inside," the stocky male tried to stop the nausea from coming out of his throat, "she can't see this."

She hastily took the frightened teenager back into the building and made her stay put before heading back outside. "Sir, where is…"

"He's right here," Tom spoke carefully, "he didn't go far."

The girl gaze a shocked gasp as she bent down next to the immobile body. "I-is…is he…is he alive?"

He shook his head. "I don't know, I haven't checked," he placed a thumb against the young male's carotid artery. "He's got a very weak pulse."

"Th-there's…so much blood." She weakly noted, seeing the extent of the carnage. "I don't even know what _happened _to him."

"The car that sped off," he explained, "I think it _hit _him." He dialled for an ambulance and waited for it to arrive.

Janeece could make out a dark red puddle forming under his shirt, and she placed a hand on Tom's arm to alert him.

"Give me your cardigan," he instructed her.

With a slight trace of hesitation, she peeled her cardigan off and handed it to him. He hastily pressed it into the deep wound. It wasn't long before the pink fabric became completely soaked with blood. "It isn't doing anything."

"We can only wait for the ambulance to get here," he supposed, noticing Chris convulsing from bleeding out too much. "God, he's going into shock." He placed a hand on his forehead, allowing his thumb to skim over the paling skin.

The young male's body was trying to work harder at staying alive. His breathing came shakier and more laboured, and both of them didn't know for how much longer he was going to last.

Just at that moment, they could hear sirens approaching their road, and an ambulance sped into the car park.

"It's ok now, mate," Tom whispered softly, "just hang in there for a few more minutes." He was aware of the convulsions gradually petering out, stopping completely before the paramedics had the chance to get to him.


	32. Chapter 32

"I'll go with Chris…to make sure he gets settled in," Tom suggested to Janeece, "are you ok looking after the place till I get back?"

She nodded slowly, gazing over at Clara who was forlornly waiting just inside of the entrance.

"Are you going to be ok telling her?" He wanted to know.

"I-I'm not sure," she dimly replied.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Try not to worry about him, Janeece. He's very strong." He thought back to the surprised looks on the paramedics' faces as they managed to pull the young male back into the land of the living after a few shocks – and that was after he'd lost so much blood. "If anything happens, I'll call from the hospital."

Janeece went back into the school, her whole body feeling blunted from shock. She approached Clara, who looked to her disappointedly.

"I want my dad," she insisted, "where is he?"

"C-Clara," she placed a hand on her shoulder, "sweetheart…your dad had an accident. He's gone to hospital."

"No," she replied anxiously, "no, you're wrong. He's gone and left me." And with that she flew off down one of the corridors.

The older girl drew in a small breath before going back upstairs and sitting back behind her desk.  
>She was hard work, there was no doubt about that, and she actually <em>admired <em>Chris for dealing with such a changeable child.

It wasn't long before her landline phone went off, and she answered it to an anxiety-ridden Tom. "How is he, Sir?"

"Terrible," he replied, "I don't know much about what the damage is, but they took him away without a word." He peered through the window of the Intensive Care unit the paramedics carted him through. "I guess they wanna get him started on fluids before they do anything drastic."

"B-but he's _hurt_," she protested, "the wound we saw…you saw it as well as I did."

"I know, Janeece, but we can do no more for him. Doctors are looking after him now. I'm on my way back." And with that, he hung up.

Janeece made to go back to her work, when she saw Clara emerge from the main door. "You shouldn't go running off like that, you know," she noted half-chidingly. "I wouldn't have been able to find you."

"Is he sick?"

She thought it best not to answer that question and went over to her. She took her into a warm embrace. "I don't think you'll be able to see him for some time," she replied softly.

It was then that the younger girl felt the tears come, and she broke down in the other's arms. "I-I wanted to tell him I was sorry," she wept, "that I didn't mean the things I said."

She could only hold her there and rub her down her back. She couldn't help but feel sorry for her and there was just no way that when the end of the day came round she would let her go back home. "How about you come home with me?" She suggested.

"I don't know if my dad would like me to do that."

"No, he'll be fine about it," she reassured her, "he's told me a lot about you and I'm sure he'd want you to be safe and looked after whilst he's poorly."

Whilst Clara was seventeen, she spoke a little more simplified than most girls her age. Of course, she hadn't been to school before encountering Chris, and so she wasn't as well educated as she could've been but that didn't make her slow.  
>"Are you my dad's friend?"<p>

Janeece smiled radiantly. "Yeah, that's right. He came round the other night to help me with my baby."

"Then yeah," she threw her arms around the other's waist, "I'd _love _to go home with you."

Tom came back to the school ten minutes later, going straight to where Janeece was working. "Did you talk to Clara?"

"Yep," she chirpily replied, despite the situation they were in.

"…What did you tell her exactly?"

"That her dad wasn't very well," she didn't look up at him from her screen, "and that it'd be some time before he sees her."

"That's if he makes it through the night," Tom shakily perched himself on her desk. "Janeece, he was so close to death. He was slipping away right in front of us and we couldn't do anything to pull him back."

"But you said there are doctors looking after him, right?"

"Yeah, a few of them." He thought back to when he was standing outside the Intensive Care unit, seeing four doctors carting him away with the two paramedics flanking him and pushing fluids galore into him. "I guess the only way we would find out how he is would be to call the front desk and ask for an update."

She nodded blankly.

"Where exactly _is _she?" He suddenly asked, his question prompting her to point towards the room in which Chris had taken up for the time being. He went into the room and saw her curled up on the sofa behind the door. He noticed that she'd fallen asleep.

"Safe and sound," Janeece noted, going back to her typing.

"We should figure out somewhere she can go," he suggested, "until he comes round, at least."

"She's coming home with me tonight," she casually stated.

He frowned. "You've already got to deal with a little one," he sounded faint with worry, "are you sure taking on another isn't going to stress you out?"

"She can help with Cheryl," she pointed out, "it'll take her mind off worrying about him."

"Janeece," he started slowly, "you do realise that sooner or later, you're going to have to tell her what really happened."

She nodded carefully. "I'll have to break it to her gently."

"Well, as gently as you can _make_ it," he replied, "for _her _sake."

At the end of the day, Janeece wheeled Cheryl home in her pram with Clara walking beside her. "When we get to my place, we can sit down and relax," she suggested chirpily, "you don't have to worry about anything."

They got in to her flat, and the younger girl helped to get the pram in through the front door as the other closed it behind them.

"When can I see my dad?" She asked her worriedly, watching her peel her coat off.

"Erm…well, not yet." She replied nervously. "He's still really poorly."

"Oh…ok." She cast her gaze down at the floor.

"But the hospital will let us know when he's better," she tried to perk her up, "they'll take very good care of him."

"I feel lost without him."

Janeece sat next to her on the sofa and wrapped an arm around her. "You want closure, don't you?" When she nodded she took her into a closer embrace. She felt good to have her so close against her. She peered down at her, noticing her eyes had deeply set dark circles around them. "I think you should get some sleep."

Clara curled up on the sofa, that being the older girl's cue to get her a warm blanket. She draped a thick one over her, ensuring she was protected from the iciness outside.

"Sleep well, sweetheart," she gave her a small kiss on the top of her head, "sweet dreams."

She rolled onto her other side before falling into a deep sleep.

Smiling to herself, she set about getting on with some quiet housework, so as not to wake her.

Tom went back up to the hospital the following day. After informing the front desk who he was looking for, he realised that Chris hadn't been moved from the unit since arriving there.  
>He swallowed hard, taking in the severity of the situation before taking a seat in the waiting room. It was only just coming up to six-thirty in the morning, so he wasn't expecting to see any doctors walking in and out through the door.<p>

He jumped up out of the seat at seeing a nurse emerge from the unit. "I-I'm here to see someone," he explained. "He was admitted yesterday."

"I can check with the doctor to see if we can arrange for you to visit," she reassured him, "but depending on the circumstances we can't guarantee it'll be yet. If you give me the patient's name I can consult with the doctor for you."

After giving her Chris's details she disappeared back into the unit to speak to a doctor. Some time had passed before she came back out and he knew that was never a good sign. It usually meant something was wrong.

"He's very ill," the nurse explained apologetically, "and because of the extent of the injuries he'll need an operation at some point today."

"Well, no one's actually told me anything," Tom protested. "He was carted off and I had no idea how bad he was or what was going to be done with him."

"He was severely ill when he arrived," she stated, "so it made sense for him to be taken away to be stabilised."

"And so now he isn't much better?" He assumed. "After being kept here overnight?"

"He suffered major abdominal trauma," she replied, "it's going to take more than one night to respond to treatment from a road traffic accident."

"If at any time something happens to him, good or bad," he looked to her worriedly, "please call this person. She has his daughter." And with that, he gave her Janeece's work number and mobile before leaving the hospital.


	33. Chapter 33

Tom called Janeece, surprised to find that she was already up so early on a weekend.

"What have they said?" She wanted to know.

"He's not good," he replied. "He's undergoing surgery at some point this morning. I'm guessing that's for the wound we tried to plug."

"How can you say he's not good when he's going to be made better?"

"It's still relatively touch and go, Janeece," he tried to explain, "abdominal surgery is considered major, especially after being knocked down by a car." The last few words were painful for him to say, and he felt such anger towards the person who did that to him. He'd always felt protective of the younger male and he didn't know how he would cope if he didn't get better.

"As long as you keep me posted," she sombrely stated.

"Yeah, sure," he didn't want the conversation to end on a negative note. "How's his girl?"

"No problems," she replied, looking over at the sleeping mass on the sofa, "she slept straight through last night and she's taken her meds as he wanted her to."

"That's really good news."

"She's even helped me out with Cheryl – just to take her mind off things," she went on. "This may sound really stupid, Sir, but do they know for how long he'll be out for?"

"No idea whatsoever," Tom answered gravely. "I think 'cause he's having such a major operation he's not going to magically wake up straight after. He's lucky to even get this far with the amount of blood he lost." His voice tailed off sharply, which Janeece frowned at.

"Something wrong?" She asked worriedly.

"I think they've taken him away," he sounded as though he was trying to focus on where Chris had gone. "I can only assume he's been taken down for the operation now."

"O-ok," she noted, "I think it makes sense to stay there…at least if anything goes wrong you'd be in the right place at the right time."

"Sure," he agreed, "as soon as he's out I'll let you know."

"Thanks."

"And try to distract Clara from what's going on," he added. "She can't know just how bad he is."

Janeece hung up and sat next to the sleeping girl. She ran her long fingernails through her dark hair, drawing in a small sigh. She looked over at the time, realising it was a few minutes after eight. "Good girl," she whispered softly, "you're doing ever so well."

Four hours went by, and despite helping Clara to get up, Janeece kept a close eye on her mobile to make sure she didn't miss Tom's call. She set about getting the younger girl something to eat and then get her some fresher clothes. Luckily enough they were around about the same size so there was no problem in sorting something out for her.

Her mobile vibrated on the lounge's coffee table, and she hastily picked it up to answer it.

"He's just come back onto the ICU," Tom explained. "They managed to heal the wound."

"Oh…Sir…that's really good news," she gushed. "So we can see him?"

"Well, not quite yet," he replied. "Something happened during the operation."

"S-'something'?" She reiterated. "Something like what?"

"The doctors aren't sure, they thought he woke up halfway through as he moved while still under. They were talking in really broad medical terms, but I got the nurse to translate it for me."

"Ok…"

"They think he's had a stroke."

She suddenly felt her throat go dry. "He can't have," she protested dimly.

"I know what you're thinking, and I thought that too – that he seems too young to have one. The blood clotted after he was hit, but they think that they may have dislodged part of the clot when they operated. It must've travelled up…Janeece, what if it's permanent? He might spend the rest of his life in a coma at the very least."

"I can't mention this," Janeece noted blankly.

"No, do not mention this to Clara – it'll upset her. And we don't know if he's going to fully come round after this. The nurse has said he wouldn't be feeling up to having any visitors just yet if he were awake. He's just too out of it. If we give him a day or two he might be more conscious, but we don't know how well he'll be once he pulls through."

"So what now?" She asked. "Are you planning on staying there with him?"

"I'll stay around the unit for another hour, just so that he's well and truly out of the woods and then I'll go home," he replied. "But the hospital have your number and they'll call you when they feel he'd be ready for visitors."

"O-ok," she faintly hung up and sat next to Clara on the sofa. She placed a hand on her shoulder. "Right then," she tried to sound chirpy, "let's find something for you to wear."  
>She managed to pull out a pair of leggings and a long t-shirt she hardly wore anymore. "I used to wear these before I had Cheryl," she explained, "but you're slightly smaller than me so you can have them now."<p>

"Th-thank you," she changed into them after being given a spare set of underwear, socks and an unwanted bra.

"You're welcome," she smiled brightly, "and you don't have to give that back to me. I won't be missing any of that."

Sunday evening.  
>Janeece heard her mobile go off on the table and she nervously answered it. It was the ICU unit at the hospital. "H-he's <em>awake<em>?" She swallowed hard, looking over at Clara who was happily playing with Cheryl. "O-ok. Thanks for letting me know."

"Was that the hospital?" She asked. She nodded, smiling a little.

"Your dad's feeling a little bit better now. Doctors have said he can have a few visitors."

"Wow…"

"But we shouldn't be there for too long," she warned, "he's only just woken up."

Janeece carted Cheryl to the bus stop in her pram, with Clara in tow. Luckily enough the hospital was on the same bus route as her road.  
>"Nervous?" She asked the younger girl.<p>

She nodded dimly. "I don't know what to say or what _he _would say."

She rubbed her up and down her back soothingly. "He'll be happy to see you," she reassured her. "He might well have forgotten what went on between you."

They were escorted to the ICU and taken to where Chris was being kept.  
>He had a room all to himself and he was linked up to quite a few monitors and IV lines that were emitting all manner of intermittent noises around him.<p>

"He might look weaker and fainter than his usual self, but he's still receiving blood transfusions from the bleeding," the nurse noted softly. "He may want to sleep, as this is his first day of waking up."

They nodded before Janeece approached the head of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired and sick," he thickly replied.

"Clara's come to see you," she explained. "She was getting worried about you." She stepped aside to allow the younger girl through.

"Dad?" Clara's voice came out nervous and frightened. "I-is that you?" She couldn't easily recognise him from the pallor and fragility.

"Clara…" Chris's voice came out a little fainter as he tried to position himself better in bed.

She nervously went over to him and wrapped her arms around him. Not wanting to disturb the IV lines, she hugged him around his waist. "I got so worried about you."  
>She peered down at the stitches a few inches above his navel. "I'm sorry for what I said to you."<p>

"It's ok, love," he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, "it's ok, don't worry about that now. It's over."

"I love you…so much." She was crying a little, but it was quickly alleviated from his stroking down her back.

"I love you too." He came over a little tired and that was Janeece's cue to help her withdraw from him. He peered up at her with a worried, almost pining look, in his big blue eyes and it was something neither had seen before.

"I don't wanna leave you," Clara admitted sadly, looking to the older girl. "I wanna stay here till you get better."

"I know you do and I want you to stay here too but you should go back with Janeece," he admitted. "She looks like she's done a good job with you." He leant slightly forward, feeling a wave of nausea slide up from his stomach into his throat.

The nurse intuitively came into the room and handed him a bowl to be sick in. "This is perfectly normal," she reassured them. "The collision caused major damage to his stomach and he's only starting to get used to spending the first few hours awake and responding as normal."

"'Collision'?" Chris reiterated suspiciously, prompting an air of concern to flash over the girls' faces.

"Chris?" Janeece came over to him, placing her hands on his wrists. "Don't you remember what happened and why you're in here?"

"No," he replied after a few minutes of deliberation.

She swallowed hard, her grip on him tightening. "But you remember who we are, right?"

He felt a headache cluster at the back of his skull. "I don't feel so good."

She turned to the nurse worriedly. "What's happened to him?"

She made to leave the room. "I'll get the doctor." And she was gone.


	34. Chapter 34

"Right then," the doctor came into the room and straight to where Chris was resting, "let's see what's going on."

Janeece gently pulled Clara away from the bed so he could get to him better, and watched him flash a penlight into his eyes after holding them open.

"His pupils are reacting fine to the light," he stated, "so it doesn't seem like it's major."

"But he didn't seem to remember what happened to him," she protested.

The penlight was put away. "Chris, can you give me today's date?"

"Isn't it the fifth…or sixth…of December?"

"Close enough," he softly smiled, "it's the _eighth _of December."

Janeece looked to the doctor worriedly. "Why did he get the date wrong?"

"He spent the past day or so in a coma, so he wouldn't have had any awareness of how long he'd been out for. That's completely normal given his situation. To him it was almost as if he had a deep sleep."

"But he doesn't remember why he's here," she protested, "or what happened."

"Well, his reflexes are normal, so the only thing that could cause poor memory is concussion," he explained. "Focussing on remembering something for too long would most likely give him a headache or start feeling sick."

"I-I thought people get concussion when they get hit on the head," she assumed.

"Most people do think that, you're not in the minority," the doctor reassured her, "but in some cases it can occur when there's been an interruption in blood flow – so it could mean Chris had a stroke in theatre. It would explain the poor memory."

"So that's it for him," she supposed, "he's had a stroke and that's going to be the end of it."

"Well, no, not quite. He's still too young and otherwise fit to get any more of them. Just because he may have had a stroke doesn't mean to say he'll get another. A stroke is a serious condition but he'll be well monitored to make sure no more happen."

She nodded carefully.

"On a more positive note, he's come round really well despite being out for a little more than a day," he went on. "As he remembers very little about the accident yet has still managed to remember _you_, that could mean that only his short-term memory has been affected. For now, that's not a bad thing but in time he _could _remember bits from what happened."

"Is he ok for us to be here some more?" Janeece wanted to know. Some of her attention was loosely on the young male, and she was sure he showed signs of tiring a few times during the talk between her and the doctor.

The doctor peered over at him. "A few more minutes maybe," he replied, "but try not to keep him awake for much longer."  
>He left them alone after a final check, hoping that they would do as he wanted them to.<p>

"Is Tom not here?" He asked thickly. She shook her head. "He can't be running the place…on his own."

"You haven't been out for long," she explained, "and it's the weekend now, so Mr Clarkson is at home. He's been making sure you've been ok since being here, though."

Chris felt the back of his head hurt, prompting Clara to widen her eyes with worry.

"What's wrong, dad?"

"My head hurts."

Janeece went over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Y-you want me to send for a doctor?"

"I think it's going now." He remained very still for a few seconds, resisting the urge to move in case something else happened. "I don't like having these headaches."

"You've got to try and not worry about them," she suggested, "you're being looked after now. You've got people helping you. You're not helping yourself by worrying about remembering anything, 'cause that's what makes them start."

"I can't _help_ but worry," he retorted, causing the older girl to shy away in fright. "I don't even wanna _be _here."

The younger turned to her slowly. "Why is he angry?"

Janeece pulled her away and made to take her outside. "'Cause he isn't very well."  
>She went back inside, finding him come over a little more weighed down. "Are you tired?"<p>

"I'm sorry," he dimly apologised.

"Chris, it's ok," she went back over to him. "I know why you're not yourself. What happened has made you like this. But you'll get better soon, and then the doctors can let you go and you can come back to work."

"But it isn't just you I upset," he replied, "it's _Clara _as well."

"Once I tell her she'll understand."

"And what about people at work?" He went on. "It's the sort of situation you hear anywhere you go yet one you wish you never have. Not everyone would understand, Janeece. I can't remember anything about why I'm here or what happened. I don't even know what the doctors have done to me…"

She heard the exhaustion in his voice. "You should sleep," she suggested.

He got into a more comfortable lying down position.

"You wanna talk to her before we go?"

"I shouldn't," Chris admitted, "not if she doesn't yet understand why I'm like this."

She tipped her head in acknowledgement. "Is there anything you want?" She wasn't sure if he was even nil by mouth, but the offer was there.

"There _is_ one thing I _do _want," he replied loosely.

"And what's that?"

"Can you get Tom to come up here?"

Her reaction was one of nonchalance. "Ok," she agreed, before squeezing his shoulder and leaving him in the room.  
>She gestured for Clara to follow her whilst carting Cheryl through the ward.<p>

"We have to go now?"

"I'm afraid so."

Janeece found herself subjected to more questions fired at her from the younger girl throughout the bus journey home.

"How come dad was ok to talk to you after he was angry?"

She drew in a small sigh. Her answer wasn't going to wait until they got back to her place.

"Janeece?"

She took a while to reply. "Clara…you've got to understand that what happened to him was…he's really poorly." _That went well, _she chided herself.

"I know he is but why?"

They made the short trek back to her flat, as she attempted to conjure up a better answer for her to understand.  
>They got back in through the front door, with Clara helping to guide the pram inside.<p>

"I know enough to know that not just _anything _would make him sick," she went on, watching her lift her little one into her arms and set about putting her to bed. She followed her into the small room.

Janeece swallowed hard, preferring not to look straight at the younger girl, as she stood in the doorway.

"D-did you _lie _to me about him?" Her question prompted no response from her. "I have to know…he's awake now, so I know he'll soon be better."

"Your dad got hurt, Clara," she shakily admitted, "someone knocked him down with their car."

"B-but…_why_?" Her question came out thick and heavily laced with shock. "Who would wanna hurt him? No one I know would have."

She shrugged loosely. "We don't know who it was," she went on, "the only one person who would know is _him_."

"Then he would _remember_," Clara assumed positively, "and then that person would get caught."

She shook her head. "H-he _can't_remember," she turned round to look at her.

"If he can't remember that, then…does that mean he's forgotten _everything_? Us? Me? What we _did _together…?"

"No," she approached her and took her hands with hers, "he has no problems remembering _us_ or _you_, but anything that had gone on more recently…"

She peered away helplessly.

"Clara, I know this is a lot to take in, but the accident your dad was in has made him very poorly. It could make him poorly for a very long time."

"But we _saw_him," she protested. "He was there and he was awake."

"Yeah, he _was _awake, and that's encouraging." Janeece agreed. "But there are long term effects that could happen.

"One thing, he can't remember much about the accident, how he was hurt, who did it or why he's in hospital. But in time he _might _try and work that out for himself. Also, he got sick while the doctors were fixing him."

"'Got sick'?" Clara reiterated. "But he _doesn't _get sick."

"After the accident, Mr Clarkson and I…we went down and found him on the road."

She nodded in acknowledgement. She could remember that well, as Janeece had attempted to hold her back and not let her see the carnage.

"That was why we didn't want you to come out. It would've upset you. H-he was bleeding very badly, so they started to fix him when he got to the hospital but something went wrong."

"What happened to him?" She wanted to know, her piercing green orbs fixing on her deeply set dark ones.

She came over incredibly sombre. "He had a stroke."


	35. Chapter 35

Clara tipped her head in confusion. The only type of 'stroke' she had ever heard of was of one given to a _cat_.

Janeece understood her confusion with the term. "It's when the blood that comes from the body to the head gets cut off. Not permanently, but temporarily – enough time to cause problems."

"Problems like what?"

She had to think for a few moments. "Speech…memory…emotional problems…confusion…" She could see the young girl's face come over more and more marauded with fear. "But no one would know if he has _all _of those sorts of problems till he's gotten better. And sometimes they don't happen for a few weeks or months after he's discharged."

"I don't want him to be sick," she said in a low voice.

"I know you don't and neither does anyone else. But the thing is, if he gets sick he's going to need people to help him. That might mean he'll need _you_." She located Tom's number on her phonebook and called it. "S-Sir, it's me. I don't mean to interrupt you during the weekend, but…"

"No it's fine, Janeece," his voice came out thick with surprise at hearing her on the other end. "Is everything ok? Have you heard back about Chris?"

"Y-yeah, Clara and I saw him a few hours ago." She noticed the young male's daughter had curled up on the sofa. "They could be right about the stroke."

A small pause ensued. "He's really that bad?"

"No, not from what they could see, but…he freaked out a little. Not only that but he can't remember anything about the accident." Janeece made to peer out of the window, noticing it pour down outside. "He wants to see you."

Chris woke up during the late afternoon. He was inwardly crestfallen at realising he didn't feel he had a good enough rest despite sleeping for a couple of hours. He slowly peered up to see that a nurse had just taken his temperature by removing the thermometer from his mouth.

"How do you feel?" She stroked his dark bangs back over his forehead.

"Sick," he dimly replied, thankful that no more objects were going to invade any parts of him for some time.

"Someone wants to see you," she explained, "but if you still feel tired you can go back to sleep and I get them to come back."

"No," he made to sit up but she helped him to do so, "I wanna see them now."

She left the room and escorted Tom into the small room. "He may tire a little as he still needs his sleep, but he'll be ok for a few minutes," she explained.

He thanked her and went over to the bed.

"You ok?" Chris couldn't help but feel daft at asking him such a question. If anything _he _should be asked that, given his situation.

"I should be asking you that question," he teased mildly, taking hold of his shoulder and squeezing it. "You don't look too good right now, you know."

"I don't _feel _it," he admitted, "but then again I don't remember anything about the accident."

"I know," he replied, "but in time you might. It doesn't have to take long for you to piece it all together."

"That's sort of why you're here," he stated loosely.

"Chris…" The older male rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. "Mate…you shouldn't be worrying yourself about that, not now. You need to rest."

He cast his gaze down onto the blankets, sadly.

"Recovering from the accident and the surgery and the stroke…it all takes time. It doesn't happen overnight and you yourself should know that."

"I feel fine," he spoke in a low voice.

"That wasn't the impression Janeece got when she and Clara came to see you," he told him. "Losing your short-term memory isn't that uncommon after a stroke, and I know getting angry very easily isn't like you. But it's manifested from what happened in theatre, and you can get help for it. Hospitals like this…they've got specialist stroke units and it might not be as an inpatient. If you sought help for it you'd be saving us all a lot of worry. And we're _very _worried for you right now."

"I don't _mean _to worry anyone," he admitted, "but I don't want anyone to see that I can't cope."

"I know, and that's 'cause you've always helped your little girl," Tom stated softly, "but you've got to think about _yourself_ now. I know you don't wanna be here, no one does, but you're in the best possible place if anything goes wrong. When you're out we can maybe think about trying to get you remember, but that isn't going to help until the _physical _problems are fixed first."

The younger of the two remained very still and quiet, as if inwardly moping about his plan backfiring. He felt a small ache in the back of his head but he switched it off.

"You're starting to look tired," he noted suddenly. "You want me to get you anything?"

He shook his head weakly.

"Wow," he stated, "_that's _a first, coming from you."

"I don't think I'm allowed anything," he replied dimly.

"Whatever happens, I'm here for you," the older spoke firmly. "You've been there for me when I've had problems."

"You don't have to do that," he protested, amiably refusing the offer of help.

"No, I _wanna _be here for you." He squeezed him comfortingly. "I just wish I knew who it was who did this to you so I could make them pay for it."

"I hate to start to sound like you, mate, but that isn't going to help at this point." He stated weakly. "You're right, I shouldn't have to worry about remembering anything, but…it's just the fact that I'm not able to. And as for the anger…I can't explain it, but something's turning it on and off."

"The doctors will help you with that," he reiterated. "They've come across this lots of times."

He drew in a small sigh, feeling his ribs ache a little.

"I should let you sleep," he tousled his bangs before pulling away from the bed. "Now you make sure you do what the nurses tell you to."

A week had gone by, and Chris was able to go home. Tom parked up outside the hospital and asked to see him.

He waited outside in the main ward whilst the nurses helped him to get out of bed and get ready to go. He was surprised to find that he actually looked a lot better than he did when he was taken there.

"He still gets headaches," the doctor told him, "but that's from the concussion. He's been prescribed some painkillers for post-operative relief, but he can use them for the headaches if they persist."

He nodded in acknowledgement.

"He has been going to the stroke unit to help with the anger issues, and it's helped him. He will have to keep going there until the therapists are happy to discharge him, but he only has to go for an hour once a week as an outpatient."

"What about his _memory_?" Tom wanted to know.

"Well, he hasn't mentioned the accident, if that's what you meant."

"When should he start to remember anything?"

The doctor shrugged. "It can happen at any time. The headaches he gets indicate that he's using too much of his energy to remember, so he can't be made to recall every single detail just like that. And the worst thing anyone could do is _force_ him. He _will _remember, but he'll need to be given time for it."

The young male was helped into the other's car and taken back to his place. Everything that had gone on over the past week and a bit had taken its toll on him, and he'd lost track of his own situation before the accident. "Where's Clara?"

"She's staying with Janeece," Tom replied, "and she's done a very good job with her, I might add." He got him to sit down on the sofa, then took hold of his legs and lifted them onto it. "Now is there anything you want?" He looked to him enquiringly.

Chris shook his head. "No, you can go now, mate."

"I'm not going yet," he stated, "not till I know you're safe to be left by yourself."

He thought it best not to disagree and remained very still where he was sitting.

"Do you feel cold? I can get you a blanket if you've got a spare one," he offered.

He drew in a barely audible sigh. "You can use the one on my bed if you want," he supposed.  
>Out of the corner of his eye he watched the older male disappear into his room to retrieve the blanket in question, choosing those few seconds to inwardly carp about having someone look after him. Since when did he need anyone to watch over him?<p>

"There," he came back and wrapped the thick blanket warmly over him, "that's better. We don't want you getting a chill."

"Tom, I wouldn't –"

"Now then," he placed his hands on his hips, not done with him yet, "you want me to get you something? I can go out and do that if you want."

"I don't know if I'm hungry."

"_Sure_ you are," Tom stated. "The operation has probably made you feel nauseous and they wouldn't have let you go if they didn't think you were up for _eating_. I know what being in hospital can do to you. It can make you feel dizzy and tired…but if you eat something – it doesn't have to be a lot – it won't take as long for you to feel better."

"O-ok," he uneasily agreed, "but I don't want anything heavy." Not only did he hear his stomach rumble, he also _felt _it.

Once Tom was happy the younger male had managed something, he kept a very close eye on him. An hour had passed since he'd eaten, and within that time he was showing signs of exhaustion. "Feeling tired?"

"No." On that note, Chris tried to perk up and seem more awake, but it didn't last long and he simply flagged all the more.

"I think you are," the older of the two helped him up, taking him into an embrace of which made it look as though he was escorting a drunkard back to his place after a heavy night out.  
>The doctors explained that he was fine to walk as long as it wasn't too far, and an approximate guess of nine paces from where they were to his bed was probably not excessive.<p>

He kept one arm around his waist, inwardly worried at the fact that he'd lost a little bit of fat around his middle. He knew that was down to him being on an IV diet, but he was convinced his appetite would come back and he'd feel better. He helped him onto the bed, pulling the covers away for him to get in.

"I'm going to be off once you go to sleep," he explained, "so is there anything you want when I come back tomorrow?"

"Umm, yeah." He peered up at him slowly. "How about you don't come back?"

He smirked to himself. "Don't get lippy." He tousled his dark bangs, which had fallen flat from being bedridden. "If you wanna get better you're going to need help."

"How long is this going to take?" Chris's voice came out pale and thin.

Tom came over more sombre. "As long as it _has _to."

"But that could take weeks…maybe a few months."

"I said I would be here for you." He spoke firmly. "That's if you want me to help you remember everything."

He said nothing but nestled further down into the sheets, already feeling the urge to sleep. "You'll want me to let you in, unless you take my key." He appeared to be squirming under the bedclothes, only to move his arm from underneath to grab hold of his keys that were on his nightstand. "I guess I won't be able to _drive _yet, either," he supposed dejectedly.

"No, but on that note, I can get your car back for you," he suggested.

"Get…my car back…why? Where is it?"

The older male frowned. "You're having me on, aren't you?" He seriously hoped that he was.

"It's _outside_," he spoke weakly, "where it _always _is after I come back from anywhere."

"No, it isn't." Tom came closer to the bed. "Your car was where you left it before the accident – in the school car park. You didn't drive home that day, remember? You were admitted to the hospital."

The younger male came over silent and thoughtful. "I feel stupid."

"No, don't." He placed a hand against the top of his head. "Don't feel bad and don't feel stupid. We know your memory isn't all that good. Everything will get pieced together, and you may not remember it all in the order it happened, but that doesn't make you thick or slow. You've heard firsthand about kids' experiences of trauma, well, this is around about the same."

"If you say so," his voice tailed off from exhaustion, and it was then that he realised he'd fallen into a deep sleep.


	36. Chapter 36

The next morning, Tom went to Chris's place quite early in case he found it hard to sleep.  
>He got inside with the keys he gave him, finding that everything was as they left it the previous night. Quietly prising the bedroom door open he found that the young male in question was still in bed, curled up under the sheets, deeply asleep.<p>

He knew that his help didn't stop after he woke up. He could be going through shock – the fact that he refused to mention the accident might not have meant he'd _forgotten_ at all, but had simply _chosen _not to remember. The best thing to have done at that point in time was to keep still and quiet, keep watch over him and look out for any signs of distress upon waking.

He didn't have long to wait, as fifteen minutes went by and the smaller body started to stir from under the sheets. He frowned at how long he was taking to wake up, deciding to inch closer to him and make him snap to.

Tom could see that he was panting, and on pulling the sheets away to get a better look noticed his ribcage rising and falling rapidly with each breath. It was nothing unusual but he did assume he was hyperventilating – probably from trauma. He wasn't at all put off at realising that he'd undressed at some point during the night, finding him in his underwear.

The younger subconsciously froze against the mattress, sensing the loss of warmth if not resisting the comforting grip on him that was attempting to pull him back out of the stupor.

"It's ok, mate," he softly spoke, sliding his dark bangs back into a more presentable position, "you're just dreaming. It's over now…relax."

His eyes flew open and he sat up in bed like a flash. "What happened?"

"You had a dream," the older replied, "I'm guessing it was from what you couldn't remember."

Chris frowned a little before realising he'd been laying, as good as exposed, in bed. He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered a little.

"I had to make sure nothing serious was going on with you," Tom explained, "sorry."

"I feel so undignified," he noted dimly.

He smirked to himself. "Don't flatter yourself," he teased, "and there was nothing I hadn't seen before." He threw the covers back on top of him.

"If I can't remember anything," he looked to him slowly, "then why did I dream about it?"

"_You're _the one who should know things like this, not me." He stated playfully. Knowing he wasn't going to get a response out of him, he continued. "The doctors did say it isn't likely that you'd remember something within a day. For all we know it could be the start of the recall, but I'm no shrink. Don't force your thought process, ok? Give it more time."

"I know but the longer that takes the longer it'll take for me to go back to work."

Tom tipped his stockier frame to one side and placed a hand on his hip. "I don't understand," he admitted. "What is it that makes you wanna go back to work so much?"

"So that everything feels normal again."

He leant further forward. "You do realise you can't return to work, not in your state," he replied sombrely. "I'm here to help you and until the anger is sorted and your memory is back to some form of normality you aren't going anywhere."

Chris knew that the wrong way to respond was to get annoyed and order him out of his flat. He was trying like heck to help him. Preferring to keep quiet, he leant back against the headboard with his arms folded over his chest.

"I know that to you being laid up isn't an ideal situation," he went on, "but…I don't want anything to hurt you or make you sicker."

"On that note," he weakly looked to him, "I don't feel too good now."

He frowned. "What do you mean, you don't feel too good?"

"I think I have to be sick."

Once he'd finished being ill, he was taken back to bed and helped in under the sheets. "I don't know why I did that," he stated, "but I can honestly say it didn't feel good."

"What had happened over the past few days is probably responsible for that," Tom reassured him. "I know you wanna remember, but you would be doing the worst possible thing by forcing yourself to recall everything. That isn't what the doctors want."

"What do they expect from me?" He icily pointed out, his body slightly rigid with anger. "To wind up in some form of shock and _vegetate_?"

"No," he placed a hand on his back and rubbed him comfortingly, "they want you to rest…and to not worry about anything."

Through her light sleep, Janeece heard her mobile go off on her nightstand and she slowly answered it. She immediately sat up in bed after realising Tom had called her.

"I don't wanna worry you," he started, "but is there any chance of you taking Clara back home?"

"S-sure," she scrambled out from under the blankets, "I mean it'd take some time for us to get ready, but…Sir, is everything ok with…?"

"He's fine," he dimly replied, "but he's giving me a lot of lip at the moment."

"That doesn't sound good," she admitted. "But is there any way it'll _stop_?"

"The only real way it could stop is to talk to the doctors…maybe they'll give him something to relax. But he's talking about returning to work, Janeece. And since he's literally been discharged for less than a full day, I don't think he should be _allowed _to."

Janeece hung up and set about waking Clara who had taken up residence on her lounge sofa. "Come on, young lady. Up you get." She helped her into a sitting position. "You're going back home."

"Really?" Her eyes widened. "That soon?" She tipped her head in mild confusion. "But dad hasn't been out of hospital for long."

"Mr Clarkson needs our help," she explained. "Your dad's giving him earache."

The younger girl smirked to herself. "He probably doesn't _mean _it." She knew that since staying with her father there'd been times when he told her off and she answered back to him, but then he would answer her back a second time to make her stop – and that always worked.

"No, but he isn't well." The older girl replied. "And if he's not listening to what the doctors suggested he do then we should intervene."

Janeece and Clara were let in to the flat by a beat-looking Tom answering the door.

"Stupid question," the older girl stated, "but how is he?" Her query was answered by a faded look from the stocky male. "He's _that _well, I take it?"

"He may be bedridden," he slowly admitted, "but that doesn't stop him."

She tipped her head towards the bedroom door. "I don't hear anything."

"You wouldn't," he shook his head, "he gave up his tirade before you got here and fell asleep. I don't know for how long though."

"This isn't good," she stated. "I mean from what we saw when we visited he just…_lost it_. Is that what this is all about – that he's gotten angry again?"

"He's not exactly angry," he explained, "he's more or less making comments about his state. He thinks he feels fine and he wants to go back to work."

"But he can barely remember why he's sick in the first place," she protested. "A-and as for the stroke…what if something happens and we can't help him?"

"I've tried telling him that, but I think the only way round this is to send for a doctor…get him to come here and look him over, and then maybe he can give him something to fix this. If he's behaving like this he could be in some form of shock."

She nodded slowly, unaware that the younger girl had latched onto her for protection. "So why did you want us here?"

After calling the post-operative team at the hospital, one of the doctors agreed to drive out to the flat and examine the young male whilst he was asleep. "It seems like a safer situation whilst he's like this," Tom explained to him.

"His vitals are just the same as they were during recovery," he stated. "His blood pressure is a little low, but he'd been through a bit during the hospital stay – and he's still recovering."

"So would you let him return to work?"

"No," he directly replied, "absolutely not. Why did you ask?"

"'Cause that was what he said." His answer prompted a frown to emerge across the doctor's features.

"Chris is in no fit state to have said that. Have you told him to stay put and rest?"

"Oh, I've done that," the stocky male stated, "and he does listen to me in that respect. But he doesn't _like _it."

"Tom," the doctor smirked a little, "most of us at some time or another don't like being told to do something, especially when we otherwise feel fine. What makes you think he doesn't like it?"

"He keeps making comments," Tom admitted after a few moments of reluctance, "and he said it'd feel more normal to him if he returned to work."

The doctor was quiet for some time before peering over at the young male. "It sounds as though he's going through some form of post-traumatic stress."

"I-I did think that, but I did think more of him just being…_mouthy_." He swallowed hard. "So the memory problems are still there, or…not so?"

"I don't think he has ever had a memory problem to start with, come to think of it," he explained. "His behaviour is becoming more avoidant – so if he's asked to remember anything related to the accident, he blocks it out. That's probably why the headaches occur. And if he insists that he feels fit enough to work, then that could be his way of trying to forget – in other words he wants to disconnect from it."

"He has to be stopped, though, surely?" He assumed, beat. "I-I mean we all know he needs his rest but I can't ever bring myself to make him stay in bed and control him like a prisoner."

The doctor shook his head. "You won't have to," he fished around for something in his case, "not when you give him these." He handed a small box to the other male.

"I can't see how he can be given these without asking what they are."

"They're dissolvable," he went on, "and the best part of it is they're flavourless. As long as they're not taken on an empty stomach, of course."

"So these are what, exactly?" He wanted to know. "Sedatives, sleeping pills…?"

"Tranquillisers," he replied, "just very slow-releasing ones. That just means that they can make him relax, but also make him sleep if he so wishes to. It won't knock him out with each dosage, if that was what was bothering you. It works in the same way as a sedative – that it can induce sleep if he wants, but for the time being he just needs to calm down."

When the doctor left, Janeece went to speak to Tom, who hadn't left his spot next to the younger male. "What did he say?"

"Well, he can't be allowed to _work_, that's for sure," he replied. "He's on a course of tranquillisers, but they're ones that can be taken in fluids."

"And you needed us back for _what _exactly?" She enquired, folding her arms across her chest.

"I might need an extra pair of hands."


	37. Chapter 37

Not knowing what she could've done to help her father for the time being, Clara kept herself in her room. Doing something therapeutic would help her to not worry about him.  
>It was the first time she'd known him to be sick, and it <em>terrified <em>her.  
>He was the one who helped her when it came down to her going to hospital and when she had those few outbursts, so she didn't know how to behave when he needed her attention.<p>

Her bedroom door opened, and Tom quietly came in. "Everything ok in here?"

She nodded dimly. "With dad being ill, I don't know how to help him," she admitted. "I mean is it wrong to feel that way?"

"No, not at all." He perched on her bed, peering down at her as she lay down on the floor on her stomach. "I know it's upsetting to see him like this, and it _is_ hard to know how to help him, but that's why Janeece and I are here. There _is_ going to be a time when we won't be and that's when he'll depend on _you_. That's the unfortunate thing about recovering from a stroke, though, Clara."

She visibly recoiled at the word 'stroke'. "Why did he _have _one?"

He bent down next to her and placed a hand on her back. "Operations go wrong. And although your dad came through it quite well, what happened was something the doctors couldn't control. Strokes start off silently and they're only found out after the damage has been done."

Janeece had spent all of the late morning keeping a close eye on Chris.  
>He hadn't woken up or made any movement for all the time she was there, so she wasn't quite ready for him to show a few signs of coming round.<br>And it wasn't exactly straightforward. He didn't pull himself out of the sleep at all, but was trying very hard to.

She leant over him, placing her hands around his wrists as he squirmed under the sheets. "S – I mean Chris – it's ok now. It's ok, you can open your eyes."

"Go away," he responded in a dim, weak voice, startling her at the response.

"You don't want me to go away, it's just the flashbacks making you say these things," she tried to reassure him. "If you open your eyes you'll see that for yourself."

"No I won't," he'd managed to grasp her hands that restrained his so that he could dig his short nails into her flesh to make her let go. "Y-you're going to kill me."

"Chris," she stated in mild surprise, "you should know me enough to know I wouldn't hurt you."

"You're going to kill me, let me go!" He tried again, realising he'd failed to make her let go of him and had resorted to attempting to kick her.

Luckily, Tom had left the doors ajar to watch out for any noise, and on coming into the room had seen the bedlam between them. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing," she anxiously retorted. "He was trying to wake up. He went stir crazy as soon as I talked to him."

He frowned as he assessed the situation. "I don't think he's gone stir crazy," he noted, "he reacted when you spoke – possibly triggered something."

Janeece lowered an eyebrow at him. "Y-you mean he thinks I'm someone else?" When he nodded, she looked more aghast. "Who could he possibly mistake me for?"

A few angry yet frightened tirades mentioning Lauren's name prompted him to raise his eyebrows knowingly. "Sound familiar?"

"I don't sound anything like her."

"You might not have to," he stated, not at all ready for the younger of the two males to prise a hand free and swipe the girl hard across her face, catching her straight across her cheek. She cried out in pain at the attack.

"He isn't aware of his surroundings," he went on, "and he especially isn't aware of what he's doing."

She scrambled back over to him, as he tried to get up out of bed. He was semi-awake by that time. "You just need to go back to sleep, that's all." She attempted to get him back into a lying down position as he'd sat up, but despite his illness he was a little stronger than her and pushed her away from him.

Tom helped her back up, as she anticipated more of an onslaught from him. Images of him jumping out of bed, getting on top of her and lashing out at her sprung to mind, but she was surprised not to sense that. On getting up she saw the slightly larger yet weakened form curled up on the bed, shivering.

"Why is he like that?" She asked him. He shook his head, and she made to go over to him. He stopped her. "He's upset."

"No," he stonily warned. "You saw what he was like a few moments ago. He'll hurt you again. And in his state there's everything to suggest he'll get distressed and end up sicker. I'll handle this."

He placed a hand on Chris's back, feeling him tense up before relaxing at the sound of the reassuring male voice. "It's ok now, mate, it's over."

"Sh-she was right here," he shivered a little more. "I didn't think she was going to go away."

"Ok, well, she's gone." He proceeded to stroke him. "She's gone and I can make this all go away."

Janeece remained by the bedroom door, taking in the situation between them. The younger of the two males shivered intermittently from what appeared to be fright, and the stockier was rubbing him up and down the length of his back, holding him close and whispering soft reassurances to him.

He went over to her once he'd settled and fallen asleep. "Any ideas about who "_Lauren_" is?" When she didn't answer yet gave him a look as if to say she knew, he pressed her. "Janeece, this is urgent. It could mean something. Why else would he have reacted when you spoke to him? Something is setting him off."

"Lauren was the woman who came to see him before the accident that day," she slowly explained. "She also hit Clara."

Tom couldn't help but feel a surge of anger towards Lauren. How dare she hurt a defenceless child, one of which belonged to a _friend_? " Then maybe it's worth asking Clara about it." He set about going to the girl's room, only to be stopped.

"Are you sure she'd be ok with that?" She supposed.

"Chris is sick," he stonily replied, "and I have to know what happened and why she hurt him."

Clara gave a small jump from where she was lying on the floor when the stocky male came into her room. "U-uncle Tom," she noted nervously, taking in his seemingly protective body language towards both her and her father.

"Clara," he spoke carefully, "honey…did you know someone called _Lauren_?" She nodded slowly.

"She was Selena's mum," she dimly stated, "but she didn't like me going out with her."

"Think back now," he calmly instructed. "Did she hit you?" He bent down next to her, cupping the side of her face with one of his large hands. He could see what appeared to be the remnants of a bruise that was fading into her cheek. "Did she do that to you?"

"I-I didn't think she was going to stop, but it was lucky that dad took her away before she could do anything else."

Tom swallowed hard. He had a strong admiration for Chris when it came to protecting others, even when it meant him standing up against those who were tougher than him. "She hurt your dad, I'm sure of it."  
>He sharply got up and flew out of the room before closing the door behind him.<p>

If Lauren had enough nerve to hit a young girl, she probably had enough nerve to injure, even intentionally try to kill, another _adult_.

Janeece watched him throw his jacket on. "Where are you going?"

"Where do you think? I'm going straight down to the old bill," he retorted. "Lauren hit Chris. She was the one who knocked him down and made him end up like this. Clara as good as confirmed that. She told me all she had to."

"You can't just go there and tell them," she grasped his wrists. "Our priority is to stay here. Sir, he's sick."

"And _she _mowed down my best mate," he fiercely stated, "she could've killed him."

"We can't turn this into a vendetta, Sir. Please, what if he gets worse? You saw the state he was in earlier."

He shook his head weakly. "She's done too much," he noted. "What she's done with him is just…_unforgivable_. I can't let this go, not now I know."

"Well this isn't about you," she tried to reason with him, "it's about him and us trying to help him get better. Sir, I know you're close to him, but we'd be doing more for him if we stay here. This is what he wants."

Tom remained still, almost rigid with dispassion. The anger within him was too strong to stop. The girl had a point, Chris needed to be watched over, but one person was enough.  
>"Keep him safe and warm," he instructed stonily, "I don't know how long I'll be." And with that, he was gone.<p>

Janeece drew in a small sigh before checking up on the younger male by peering through the gap between the door and the doorway. She could make out a mass from within the blankets yet she was thankful to see it was not shivering like before.

She came into the room, careful not to startle him by making too much noise. Remembering that by speaking to him would trigger another outburst, she perched on the bed and placed a hand on what she could make out to be his back.

He gave a small flinch before relaxing into the touch again. She caressed him through the thick fabric of the blanket, keeping the strokes slow and rhythmic. She had no idea if what she was doing was having _any_ impact on him but she thought it best to stay with him rather than leave him by himself.  
>She remained there for around fifteen minutes before moving off the bed and leaving the room. He didn't even stir or slip out from under the sheets.<p>

She went into Clara's room, seeing the girl still lying on the floor. "I hope he wasn't too rough with you," she stated as she sat on her bed and peered down at her.

"Who?"

"Mr Clarkson."

She shook her head. "He just asked me who Lauren was. So I told him."

She nodded slowly.

"Where is he?"

"He's gone to the police," she explained loosely. "Now that he knows of her, it was something he felt he couldn't keep to himself. What she did was wrong, of course. She hurt you and almost killed your dad. She could get done for attempted murder."

Clara stopped what she was doing and sat up on the floor from her prone position. "I know my dad and Uncle Tom are close."

Janeece nodded. "They're _very _close." She smiled a little.

"Was what he did wrong?"

She tipped her head in confusion. "Was what who did wrong, Clara?"

"Dad," she replied softly, "when he took Lauren outside to make her go." The older girl shook her head.

"Not if she was causing a scene," she stated. "And he'd obviously felt she made her point quite clearly – seeing what she'd done to you."

She peered down at the floor sadly.

"Your dad's a good person," she placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly. "You must feel very lucky to have him."


	38. Chapter 38

The next day, Janeece had left Chris's place to collect her daughter from her mum's. That only left Tom looking after him and Clara, and the larger male had been worried about not hearing anything from the bedroom since the previous day.

"He could still be asleep," the young girl supposed.

He nodded slowly. "But he's been without food…I don't want him to starve in there. I mean I know he isn't too good, but he can't stay in bed and not eat anything." His speculations about possible force-feeding options were cut short when the younger male came sidling out of the room in a tired sort of way and heavily sat down in between the other two on the sofa.

"Sorry," he slowly apologised, "I didn't mean to spend so much time in bed, but I couldn't move. Something made me feel stiff."

"It's ok," Tom reassured him, "shock does all sorts to you. You don't have to feel bad about it." His reassurance seemed to fall on deaf ears when the other slouched further down from his sitting position and angrily kicked under the table in front of them.

"I just wanna remember," Chris helplessly admitted, "everything that had happened."

"Well, it's not that simple, mate." He placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to cool the anger within him. "These things take time. And the doctor doesn't think you've forgotten about what happened at all – he thinks you've chosen to block it out."

"It feels the same as forgetting about it to me," he shrugged.

"That's why you wanna go back to work. It's your way of choosing to block it out. You wanna distract yourself."

"Dad, we do want you to remember everything, 'cause that's the only way the bad feelings you've got will stop." Clara added, taking hold of his hand with both of hers and caressing it between them. "And we'll help you with it."

Not releasing his grip on him, Tom took hold of his other hand with his free one. "And don't worry. Lauren isn't going anywhere fast. The police are looking for her..."

"_Lauren_?" His bright blue eyes flashed wildly as he looked straight to him. "How do you know who she is?"

"You were shouting in your sleep," he went on, "and after I asked Clara about who she was, it made sense. She was the one who hurt you."

The younger male froze and unwittingly tightened his grip on the other two. It was something he wasn't expecting to hear, and it was all too much to take in at once.

"But it's ok," he rubbed him down his back, "Lauren was wanted in connection for something else, so don't worry. They know who she is."

"So that makes it all better," Chris wryly stated.

He frowned. "No," he slowed down his strokes, "it doesn't make what she did to you any better. But they know what she looks like."

"Where's Janeece?" He flatly asked, realising the younger girl didn't seem to be about.

Tom raised an eyebrow at how he would've known that she had been around, but he decided not to question it. "She's gone to pick up Cheryl from her mum's," he replied, turning his attention back to him. "Now what do you feel like?"

"I'm not hungry," he made to get up but was made to sit back down again.

"You haven't eaten since you've come out of hospital," he noted, "and being on an IV diet isn't exactly _filling_."

"I don't want anything."

"And you should think about having a _shower_," he went on. "Being in a hospital bed, having things put into you and spending a day or so bedridden must've made you feel _dirty_."

"Are you my _mum_?" Chris matter-of-factly wanted to know.

"Might as well be," he got up and got his jacket on. "Now I'll go and get us something. We haven't eaten either. And then," he looked to him knowingly, "you're getting a shower."

xxxx

Once Tom was happy that the younger male had eaten _something_, although not a lot, he tipped his head towards the bathroom.

"I know where I have to go for a _shower_," he icily told him, "I don't need _directions_." He raised an eyebrow at the realisation that he wasn't going to be taking it _alone_. "T-Tom…I know we're _mates_, but…"

"I want you to feel comfortable in taking a shower," he explained.

"I probably would if you weren't here with me," he hesitantly made to take his boxers off whilst remaining frozen against the bathroom wall. But something was stopping him.  
>He felt a little sick as he tried to block out the memory of what he and Lauren did that night when he was with her. He swallowed hard, trying to convince himself that <em>she <em>wasn't there.

"She isn't here," he seemed to read his thoughts, "only us. You don't have to worry about her."

"Tom, I…" Chris looked to him before casting his gaze away and swallowing hard again. "This may sound a little weird, but I don't think I can fully strip with you looking."

"There's nothing I haven't seen before." A stark look of horror crossed the other male's face. "But if that's what you insist…" He handed him the towel, so that he could cover himself up as he removed his boxers.

Once he relieved himself of his underwear, he wrapped the towel around his waist before Tom could be allowed to look.  
>"You're not going to be in here with me the whole time…are you?"<p>

"I'm not going to _watch _you," the older male reassured him, "but we need you safe. We know you're in shock and after the last few days we can't risk anything happening to you."

"That's a relief."

xxxx

"So what's happening with Clara?" Chris wanted to know as he dried himself off with the towel and Tom's back to him.

"What do you mean, what's happening with her?"

"Now that I'm like this," he wrapped the towel around himself, "she can't be expected to look after _me_."

"And why not?"

"'_Cause_," he shrugged.

The stockier male came over to him. "She wants to help you. You can't turn down help from your own _daughter_."

"But she has her own problems," he stated. "She isn't a hundred per cent. It doesn't feel right for her to do anything for me. I've been helping her, so why should she help me?"

"'Cause you're _family_," he took hold of his broad shoulders, "and she doesn't have to do everything for you. You're not completely decrepit."

"Thanks for not making me feel so old," he wryly acknowledged.

"You're welcome." He followed him into his room.

"Is this what it's going to be like from now on?" He perched on his bed, still with the towel wrapped around him. "You're going to follow me _everywhere_?"

Tom thought for a few seconds. Chris wasn't going to get himself into any problems if he was just drying a few parts of him and getting dressed. "Ok, but I will come back in at some point."

Once the older of the two had left, he drew in a small sigh and remained very still and quiet on the bed. He didn't even feel like moving. He can't deny he felt better for having a shower and getting something _inside_ of him, but he didn't feel anything _special_.

"How is he?" Clara wanted to know as Tom sat down with her.

"He's a bit better, but he's still giving me a bit of lip," he replied.

"He gets like that when things don't go the way he wants," she smirked. Her smirk faded when he frowned at what appeared to be nothing in particular. "Is he worrying you, Uncle T-"

"Stay with him," he sharply got up from his sitting position next to her, "make sure he doesn't do anything." He threw on his jacket and quickly left the flat.

The young girl didn't know what to make of the stocky male's abrupt exit, but she didn't want her dad to be on his own for very long. She quietly came into the room, seeing him still sitting very still on the bed. "Dad…?"

Through the confusion, she noticed that the towel wrapped around him was just about covering up any bits she was forbidden to see, but it didn't bother her about the state of his modesty.

He weakly peered over at her. "Hey, sweetie," he noted abstractedly.

She frowned as she tried to work out why he called her that and the way in which he said it, but she came closer to him. She could see that his bright blue eyes had come over glassy and fixed, almost as though he wasn't fully there. "Dad, are you feeling ok?"

"Never better."

To her, he sounded as though he was on a trip and she'd hoped that he didn't overdose on the tranquillisers the doctor had prescribed for him – although he would've had to find them first, and Tom had made doubly sure they were out of his reach. But it was crazy, she could never construe him as the type of person who would do something like that.

"What's wrong, love?" He didn't make any effort to move off the bed. "You want a hug?"

Through the morning light that had come in through the window, Clara could see quite clearly that he'd gotten very pale – and she was sure he wasn't like that when he emerged from his room earlier. Something had made him sick again, but she couldn't leave him. She nodded slowly.

Chris slipped off the bed, wrapping the towel more around himself. He gave a small start at the long awaited contact, feeling her arms around his waist and her shorter body pressing into his.  
>She didn't want to let him go and only held onto him tighter, her hands on the middle of his back.<p>

"I thought you were going to die," she wept, her cries immediately being attended to from a hand resting on the top of her head.

"I'm not now," he softly stated, guiding her back to the bed and pulling her with him, "the doctors have made sure of that."

She could make out the sutures that were helping to protect the wound to his deeper abdominal muscles. Swallowing hard, she ran an index finger along the length of the stitching, looking to him in case she caused any pain.

"Looks pretty bad, doesn't it?" He admitted, trying to play it down a little.

"I didn't mean the things I said."

"Forget about that," he took her into a warm embrace. "Even if you hadn't have said what you did it wouldn't have stopped what happened."

Clara removed her hand from around his waist to his chest. Some of its broadness had disappeared from the inadequate IV intake if not from the shock, and she caressed the pale flesh softly. "I know what happened was bad, but you've got people who wanna help you. And they love you, very much."

"I know but it doesn't stop the pain I feel," he replied dimly.

"The pain won't be there for much longer." She took his wrists with his, caressing them. "How about I leave you to get dressed? Then we can maybe sit down together."

Chris didn't say anything for some time. "Ok," he eventually agreed, and she left him to his own devices before closing the room's door behind her.


	39. Chapter 39

Tom came back into the flat from outside, realising Clara was nowhere to be seen. He assumed that she'd either gone to check up on her father or spend some time with him or she'd retreated into her room to divert her attention away from the fact that he was still very sick and there was very little she could've done to help him.

He presently found her in her room, although she'd curled up on the bed. Maybe the fact that Chris was poorly had left her exhausted from helplessness. "Clara?" When she didn't respond he approached her and took her by the shoulders after laying her on her back. "Clara, love, can you hear me?"

The young girl's body had become limp and lifeless, almost doll-like. Her fair skin had tinged a deathly white colour, and it was then that he realised with sheer horror that she was in a very bad way.

"Clara, we need you to wake up, love." Tom carried her into the bathroom, and set her down in the bath so he could fill it with hot water. "Come on, wake up for Uncle Tom…open your eyes."

"What's going on?" Chris's voice dimly came from behind him, but he made no move to back away from Clara's body, inadvertently letting him see. "Tom, what happened to her? Why is she…?" His voice tailed off as he realised that she'd stripped herself completely and he knew that the last time he'd seen her she was fully clothed.

"I-I don't know, mate. I came in and saw her like this…" He got the water as hot as he could, not caring if it got to the point where it was _scalding_. "She's not responding and she looks cold."

With strength he didn't know he had, he set himself next to the stockier male and he took her into his arms whilst not removing her from the bath. "She was literally like this when you found her?"

He nodded shakily. "As good as." He watched him place a hand against her forehead. "I couldn't see any external damage…I could only assume she passed out."

He shook his head dimly. "I think she got herself too stressed out," he replied. "With everything going on…Tom, she can't be expected to help me in the long run, not if she falls sick like this."

"So should we call for a doctor?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted, "I've never seen her get like this, but they did want me to see a doctor if she got worse in any shape or form."

"Does she take medication?"

"Yeah, she keeps track of what she takes," Chris kept Clara's head close against his broad chest, "why?" He could _never _believe that she would be responsible for an overdose. Not his beautiful little girl. No. Not her.

Tom left them in the bathroom together whilst he searched her room for the anti-rheumatic medication.

"Tom," he loosely started.

"Be right there, mate."

"No, you need to get here now."

"It's ok," he returned with the intravenous form of medication, "she'll be ok now."

"She doesn't need to take any," he replied. "She isn't due any till the morning."

He looked to him softly. "You're not feeling too good, mate…it's ok. I'm here to help, remember? This will make it all better for her…"

"I know I haven't been feeling too good," he admitted, "but even I know when she's meant to take them." She felt the young girl stir in his hold – whether it was from the rush of heat seeping into her body or the fact that her father – her own flesh and blood – had her in a close embrace. He softly swept her dark blonde bangs away from her face as her eyes flew open. "It's ok, love, I'm here now. Daddy's here."

"Dad…" Clara's voice was thick with exhaustion, and with one hand, she reached up and cupped his face. "Dad, I don't feel so well…"

"I know you don't, but I'm here and I'll help you to feel better." He lifted her out of the bath and carried her to bed. "Let's get you dry and into something warm, ok? Maybe get some sleep…"

She was taken into her room and set down on her bed as he got a towel and wrapped it around her petite frame. "I don't know how I'm going to be able to help you if you're not very well…" Her voice tailed off as he took her into an embrace. "I don't want you to get sicker."

"Don't be scared and don't worry," Chris managed to unearth one of her warmest nightdresses to dress her in, "we can talk later."

"I don't want you to leave me in here…on my own." She looked to him anxiously. "I wanna be with you."

He felt a wave of guilt crash over him. Surely one night wasn't going to hurt?

"Is everything ok now?" Tom stood in the doorway to her room, seeing them both sitting together.

"I-I guess so," he supposed.

"You want me to stay, or…you guys ok for me to go?"

The younger male looked to Clara carefully, intuitively knowing how she felt. "I think we'll be ok," he replied thankfully, "but if we need you we'll let you know."

xxxx

Chris took Clara into his room once she felt ready enough. "We'll work something out," he noted reassuringly, pulling the blankets away from one side of the bed so he could get in first for her to cuddle up, "but the last thing I want is for you to worry."

She snuggled up to him once he'd gotten in. "I didn't wanna worry you, but I guess with my own illness it kind of made everything get worse."

"I didn't think that'd affect it," he admitted, "but we can't risk the same thing happening again. That was too close to call. Tom and I thought you weren't going to make it."

"There's something I have to tell you, dad…" Her voice tailed off as he swept a hand over her forehead and kissed her.

"We have to sleep," he spoke softly, "we'll talk tomorrow." He switched the light off on the nightstand and sank into a better position to sleep. She snuggled closer to him. He smirked to himself.

"What?"

"You can't get any closer," he noted playfully.

"I know, but I like being as close as I can be with you," she happily closed her eyes as she could feel her body press up against his slightly larger one, "you make me feel safe."

"Sleep well, my love." He felt himself sink into the deeper depths of sleep as she was felt to slide her hand back and forth across his chest. "I love you."

"Love you too, dad."

xxxx

The next morning, Clara was the first to wake up, finding that she was still in her father's protective embrace. She'd had her arm wrapped around him all night and so had he, so they were obviously both comfortable together.

She leant up on one arm, feeling a lot stronger than she did the previous day. She wasn't sure what had happened but it was like he'd said – the past few days' events coupled with her own physical state had probably gotten too much for her.

She gazed at him whilst he slept – he was on his back, in the same position as they were in when they fell asleep together that night and his chest slowly rose and fell with each breath. His bangs were a little askew, but she gently brushed them back into their proper places again.  
>His eyelids flickered, and she wasn't sure if what she'd done had made him stir or if he was naturally waking up by himself anyway.<p>

Remembering the way he reacted to when Janeece was with him, she was at a loss what to do with him. Staying with him would've possibly put her in the firing line for being subjected to a traumatised tirade, but if she left him he might get himself into problems.

She took hold of his hands and kissed him on the top of his head. She didn't know what else to do at that point in time. His eyes flew open and he looked to see her perched on top of him, sitting on his stomach, and peering straight down at him. "How do you feel?"

"O-ok, I guess," he was mildly surprised at seeing her on top of him, but she wasn't doing anything _sexual _with him – she was just being her usual playful self. "You look like you're better."

She nodded steadily. "A lot better, thanks to you." She felt even better that he didn't lose it, and she couldn't work out why.  
>She slid off him as he made to get up, and she couldn't help but frown at his sudden inclination to get out of bed. Doctor's orders were that he stayed put. "You feel sick at all, dad?"<p>

"No," Chris looked to her, in a confused way, "I should get up."

Clara tipped her head in concern. He was behaving strangely like before, but there was something more _proactive _about it. "Don't you think you should come back to bed?" She called out as he disappeared out of the room. "Doctors aren't going to be happy to find that you're disobeying them."

"I am not disobeying anyone," he came back in, "if I feel well enough to get up then I don't need to be in bed. I feel fine, love."

She lowered an eyebrow at his response. Ok, he had answered her in a fairly pleasant way although his body language suggested to her that he was a little dubious as to why she was asking him such things. She watched him get dressed and followed him out of the room.

He almost jumped a foot in the air when she wrapped her arms around him from behind. "Clara, love…"

"I just don't want you to get sick again," she noted worriedly, "after what happened before."

"But I'm ok now."

"You're not," she affirmed. "You're ok when the _doctors _say you are. So go back to bed."

Chris frowned at how worried she sounded. "It's ok now. I don't feel sick anymore. I don't know how many times I have to stress this to you."

She drew in a deep breath. "But nothing has happened to make anything change," she weakly protested, feeling him pull away from her. She couldn't deny that since last night even she felt better, whereas before then she'd become close to being taken to the nearest A and E.

He heavily sat down on the sofa, hoping that Clara was done with him. "Well, I feel fine," he reiterated, "so I _must've _slept well last night."

She perched next to him. "That's it," she took his hands with hers, "it's because you had a better sleep."

"…Or maybe it's 'cause _you _were there with me," he assumed. She sat back but seemed more confused. "Think about it. I spent the previous nights – and days if you count the ones in hospital – on my own. But…last night you were there. Maybe I needed you with me as well as you needing me with you."

"Dad, I…" She shook her head slowly. "I-I don't understand. Are you saying that we made each other feel better without knowing it?" She wanted to get that bit clear. She then started to feel sick as she explored that a little more. "What did we do last night?" Whilst she couldn't help but feel that Chris _was_ very attractive, he was related to her and so for them to engage in anything _naughty _was…well, she wouldn't have forgiven herself.

"Nothing," he came closer to her, "but I think that maybe 'cause we bonded and it made us feel better."

"This sounds heavy," she admitted, "and I believe some spiritual stuff."

"This isn't spiritual," he replied, "when we bond, we bond really well. When we're together I feel…I don't know. Warm and fuzzy. Don't you get feelings like that?"

"Yeah, most of the time," she admitted, "but that's only 'cause I like being with you."

"Well that's it," he went on. "Bonding makes us feel better. We don't need extra help or medication or doctors. We just need each other."

"I can't stop _my _medication, though." She replied.

"Well, no, we can't stop yours _altogether_, but I think it'll make things feel better if we're together more. The only thing that'll _stop_ that is if I go back to work – and that means we'll be apart." He thought for a few more seconds. "Unless…you feel _well _enough to go back to school. At least that way it'd guarantee us staying together and not losing our bond."

Clara smirked to herself. "But you can't expect me to be with you for all that time," she stated, "not when you run the school and I have sets to go to."

"You're forgetting, I'm the head," Chris explained, "and there are ways around this. I'm practically in the same room all day. As for you, I can arrange for your set work to be given to you first hand."

"Wow…"

"On one condition," he went on, "although you're in the same room as me I will not intervene with your work. So I want you to do it all by yourself."


	40. Chapter 40

When Monday came around, Chris drove to the school, taking Clara with him. "Feels weird being back," he admitted once he parked up in the bay.

"But weird in a good way, right?" She placed a hand on his thigh.

"Sure," he didn't sound too definite, "weird in a good way." He got out of the car and she did the same.

"We're not in too early, are we?"

"No." He locked up and held the entrance door open for her to go in first. "Just early enough for us to get settled and get you sorted."

They went up to the room together, both thankful that there was no one around. Neither of them wanted to be made a fuss of, even if anyone knew they'd come back or not.

He unlocked the door and they both got in together.

"I remember coming in here," Clara noted distractedly.

Chris was oblivious to what she'd said, instead setting himself down behind the desk. "Come again?"

"When you were poorly," she clarified, "I slept in here." She noticed his concerned expression. "Dad, it was terrible. I didn't know what had happened to you. Uncle Tom and Janeece both ran outside and I followed them. I couldn't see you…but Janeece made me go back inside. I wanted to tell you I was sorry, but I couldn't do that 'cause you were going to be taken away."

"It's ok," he pulled himself out from behind the desk and went over to her, "it's over now. See? I'm better…so you don't have to worry about it anymore."

"I-I thought I'd lost you," she sobbed and buried her nose in his shirt, prompting him to take her into a hug.

"It takes more than that to get rid of me," he replied teasingly. He came over more sombre. "And don't ever think you would lose me, even if I never made it."

She felt him pull her against his body and rub her down her back.

"So Janeece took you to her place after the accident?" He went on.

"Yeah, that's right." She opened her eyes, her vision going a little blurred through tears. "She didn't want me to stay at home."

"Not after what had happened, I wouldn't have thought so."

Clara frowned at his remark. "What do you mean, 'not after what had happened'?" She looked to him slowly. "Dad, do you remember?"

Chris paused, anticipating another monster of a headache to put him off focussing or contemplating about discussing it but it never came. "I remember getting _mowed down_," he replied.

"Y-you _do_?" She got herself up off the floor so that they could both sit down on the sofa and look at each other better. Before he could barely _think_ about talking about the incident without getting a migraine, so what had changed? A _bond _between father and daughter couldn't just simply have remedied that, surely?

"I remember who did it and why," he went on, "and then…I don't know. I found that I couldn't move. It was almost as if I was hurting all over but I couldn't do anything about it."

"You were still awake when Janeece and Uncle Tom found you," she assumed, quickly imagining the sheer pain he must've endured whilst waiting for the ambulance to come by. She had to let him know that whilst he was suffering he was not alone. "Dad, they were trying so hard to save you. Y-you were bleeding so badly…"

"I know," he admitted softly, "I didn't so much know I was _bleeding_ but I just knew I wasn't going to last much longer. I felt as though I was slipping away and that I was going to _lose _you." He thought back to when he was lying semi-conscious on the tarmac, being pulled closer and closer into the white light that was in front of him. And he couldn't pull himself away; even if he tried to it only pulled him in all the more.

"The next thing I knew I was in a hospital bed with all the doctors and nurses in the room," he went on. "I don't know how I got pulled out of it or why, but…"

Clara took his hands with hers. "It's a good thing that you were brought back," she reassured him, "and I don't know how you came through, but you did."

"I don't understand why she did it." Chris suddenly stated.

She came closer to him. "There was something I was going to tell you about Lauren," she admitted. It was something she knew he wasn't going to like.

"I should think about working," he got up off the sofa, leaving her on it. It wasn't his way of avoiding talking about Lauren; he genuinely did want to get started. Unfortunately, the young girl didn't see it that way.

"You've got to talk about her _sometime_," she noted.

"Yeah, well, not now," he sat behind the desk, "at some point, but when I've got time to."

"We've got time _now_," she retorted impatiently, prompting him to firmly look to her.

"I'm going to go and see Tom once the sets start up," he ignored her retort, "so I don't wanna hear another word from you about this. It's _work_ now, not _home_."

She gave him a hard glare at what he said.

"And don't give me that look," he set about going back to what he was starting to write, "it doesn't work anymore."

xxxx

Quarter of an hour later, Tom came into the room. He was startled to find that the door was unlocked and that the room in question was also occupied. His eyes widened in half-pleasant surprise. "Chris," he started, seeing him perched behind the desk, "y-you're back."

The two close friends wrapped their arms around each other, the stockier of the pair tousling his dark bangs affectionately.

"I can't believe you've come back," he noted disbelievingly, "the doctors were ok about letting you do this?"

"Erm…well, the doctors don't actually know," he admitted sheepishly, "but I felt well enough so I came back anyway."

He lowered an eyebrow in concern. "I don't want you getting _sick _again, mate. Remember how sick you've gotten? That didn't happen that long ago."

"I know, but I've never felt surer about returning." He tipped his head towards his daughter, who had been writing productively for the past half an hour. "And I owe it to her as well as you and Janeece."

Tom placed a hand on the younger's arm and pulled him out of the room. "Hang on, you say Clara's helped you to come back?"

"That night," Chris explained, "when you found her. She couldn't sleep that well so I let her sleep with me for the night. The next day we woke up and we felt better – both of us."

"You're bound to get days when you feel fine and days when you don't, aren't you?"

"I think that 'cause Clara spent the night with me it made us bond. Something made us feel better."

"Chris, this is heavy and I know that even you don't believe in all that airy fairy stuff." He stated.

"No, this is nothing spiritual," he replied. "Tom, our bond is just too much. That's why I feel for her and behave towards her the way I do. She's the only child I've got, sure, but we share something special." He noticed a strange look forming on the other's face and he knew it wasn't an overly approving one.

"I don't think Janeece will see things your way," he noted, looking over at where Clara was sitting whilst she was doing her own work. "So is this where you're living now, is it?"

She peered up at him and nodded slowly. Her action prompted a frown from her father.

He drew in a small sigh. "Ok, well, I'll go and get the work her set's due to start on. She hasn't missed a lot so don't worry." He left the room so he could fetch her work.

"Have I missed something?" Chris asked her, his frown not leaving his young features. She shrugged.

"Don't know what you mean," she didn't take her eyes off what she was writing, "and you didn't wanna talk about anything outside of work, so…"

"No, don't give me that," he spoke sternly. "You do _not _blank him out like that. I don't know what your game is but I don't like it…"

"I can blank him out if I _want _to," she retorted, "after what he did."

That made him emerge from behind his desk and fly up to her. "What is this about exactly, Clara?" He wanted to know, folding his arms across his chest. "Why have you suddenly gone off him?"

She stopped what she was doing and refused to look at him.

"You were both getting on really well," he went on, his voice becoming softer and less demanding, "I mean I know Tom and I are mates, and you shouldn't feel that you _have_ to like him just 'cause _I_ do. But what bothers me is that you _did_ like him and now you're giving me the impression you _don't_."

Clara felt the tears come but she didn't want to let him see. Instead she felt them well up behind her eyes, which made them sting.

"You can tell me, right?" Reaching out with one hand after going down to her eye level, he tipped her face up to meet his. "Come on, we're _family_."

She swallowed hard and shook her head. "I can't tell you."

"Not even your own dad?" He sounded a little hurt. He wanted her to feel comfortable talking to him about _anything_, and he couldn't understand what would make her not want to that time. "Will you feel ready to tell me some other time?"

She cast her gaze away sadly. "I-I guess maybe…" She darted her eyes back to his bright blue orbs, which came over sad. "I just want you to believe me."

"Clara, I could _never _disbelieve you," he reassured her, "we've been through a lot together and I love you so much…what would make you think that?" She shook her head as if to tell him to get off her case and give her some breathing space. "What about if we went out somewhere lunchtime?"

"I don't know about that…"

"Ok, what about if we didn't go home straightaway after we finish here tonight?" He suggested. "Instead we go out for something to eat?" He didn't care what it took; he was getting her to talk. The sooner it was talked about the sooner he would feel better if not her.

Before she could answer him, Janeece came rushing into the room. "Sir, there's someone who wants to see you…" Her voice tailed off at realising that Tom wasn't there. "Are you sure you should be back here so soon?"

"Morning to you too," Chris replied dryly, noticing her surprised expression. "I feel much better, Janeece, thanks for asking."

"S-sorry," she apologised, "but I think it's something Mr Clarkson should deal with and not you."

"Well, tough," he noted, "in case you haven't noticed I'm back in charge so this should really go through me first, don't you think?" His retort prompted a startled look from Janeece. "If it's something that _Mr Clarkson _should be looking after then I'll put it through to him, so if you could send them through…"

A well-formed, pretty-eyed blonde woman came into the room.

"L-Lauren," he stumbled backward as if to anticipate a shower of hits from her, but none came. Instead he bumped into the desk and grasped the edge of it as if to give him some form of ballast. "I-I…why are you here?"

"Lauren?" She frowned, coming closer to him. "I think you've gotten me confused with someone else."

"Dad, that isn't Lauren," Clara backed her up.

Chris swallowed hard. "Is there something I can help you with?"

His daughter looked to him wryly. "You really don't have any idea who she is, do you?"

"Well, no, but if you've got any better ideas, maybe I should put _you _in charge." He retorted.

"She's my _mother_."


	41. Chapter 41

Chris perched himself more in front of the desk, as Clara went back to her work and the blonde woman sidled over to him. "Janeece," he was starting to feel guilty for the way he spoke to the young girl, "did she give you her name?"

"Holly," she filled him in, breezily. "I'm surprised Clara hasn't mentioned me to you – since she's _ours_."

"I can only take your word for that," he replied slowly, "but she has told me about her mother – the one that kept getting off her face and pulling any bloke she sees – that happens to be you, does it?"

"A long time ago," she solemnly admitted, "but I don't blame her for leaving us to find you. I can see how much she's changed…how much she's blossomed." She looked to the teenager who wasn't paying much attention to her. "She's a pretty girl. You've done well with her, Chris."

"O-ok," he was feeling a little freaked out by then, "so you know who I am and how much of a rough life she had. That doesn't qualify you to be her mother…"

"That's evidence enough," Clara spoke between the two.

Holly smiled softly. "So you do remember me, Clara." She went over to her and made to take her into an embrace. She immediately recoiled away from her.

Chris immediately construed his daughter's behaviour as contact she didn't want, and he went between them, so as to shield her from the newly arrived woman. "I think that's close enough," he felt her hands on his from behind.

"I don't understand," she stated carefully, "if she knows who I am then why did she react like that?"

"Is she likely to forget everything you put her through?" He rhetorically stated. "I wasn't there when she lived with you, but she's told me what went on. I don't want her to go back to that."

"She won't have to," she replied loosely, "I've thought about the way I was and I wanted to improve myself for her…so I kicked out all the other guys that were in my life and went on from there. Even _we _had something, didn't we?" She got closer to the young male, cupping his face with one hand. "Why else would I have stayed single?"

"L-look, I appreciate the effort you went through, but that isn't enough." He shied away from her touch, repelling it. "It doesn't change what you did to her. And what _we_ had was just something that happened _one night_. I'm not interested in anything but to look after her. I don't want you to suddenly come in and change all that."

Holly could see how firmly Clara had hold of him, and she backed off a little.

"She came to find _me_. Yes, I know she was _unplanned_, but that doesn't make her any less important. She only wants _me _in her life, no one else." He felt her squeeze his wrists comfortingly. "I'm sorry."

She nodded sadly, as she made to leave the room. "I'm sorry I didn't give her a very good life," she looked over to her one last time, "I can see now she has it." And then she left.

"Ok, that felt slightly surreal," Chris said to no one in particular as he heavily sat back down behind his desk.

"Did you really mean what you said?"

He'd originally planned not to talk about anything home related, but surely one short conversation wasn't going to hurt? "Depends on what I said."

"About me being unplanned."

He looked to her slowly. "I can't make that sound any better, but you _were_ unplanned, yeah. Getting with someone I met the same day and then helping them to look after a little one at thirteen wasn't an ideal situation." He noticed she came over sad. "That doesn't mean to say I don't _love _you, but…fathering a baby at a young age is kind of frowned upon. No one else but us knew, so the best way to have left it at that was if I left you with her and that was when you started to look for me."

She went back to what she was writing, just before Tom came into the room with her work.

"There you go," he handed it to Chris instead to give to her, given her behaviour towards him earlier, "make sure she does it by the end of the day and then I'll come by and collect it off you."

He said he would and gave it to Clara. "You know, I don't like the idea of you two using me as a go-between," he noted. "Sooner or later you're going to have to interact with him."

"Just 'cause he's your _mate_?"

"No, 'cause he's your teacher." He went back behind his desk. "I don't know what's brought this on, but I think it should stop, don't you?"

XXXX

At the end of the day, Clara finished what she had to so that he could take it off her.  
>"So where do you wanna go?" He asked casually, as he made to go and hand deliver her work to her individual sets.<p>

"Go where for what?" She hoped she sounded hostile, but she didn't pull it off very well.

"For something to eat," he replied. "I thought that was the plan of action food wise."

She drew in a small sigh. "Surprise me," she noted resignedly.

"Ok," he shrugged nonchalantly, "if that's what you want."

XXXX

Chris took them both out to a place that he knew full well she liked, and they settled on taking a window table. "So," he started, prompting a startled look from her. "I was only going to ask you what you felt like. You didn't have to jump a mile."

"I-I was just…expecting you to start firing all kinds of questions at me," she mumbled.

He lowered an eyebrow at her reply. "Clara, come on…I _will _let you talk about what it is you wanted to say, but we're here as a family, aren't we? Relax." He tipped his head a little. "How about your usual? I can get you that if you're happy with that."

She nodded slowly. "O-ok," she breathed.

XXXX

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" He asked her after they'd finished and were sitting back in their chairs to let their food go down.

She shrugged. "It isn't important."

"It must be to you. You've been waiting long enough to tell me, so why don't you?" He sat more forward despite his stomach feeling so bloated and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Whatever it is, we can deal with it. That's what we're so good at, isn't it?"

"I just don't wanna wreck things between you and Uncle Tom."

"You won't," he took on a calmer posture and sat back again, "and I could never accuse you of making it up or lying to me."

Clara drew in a deep sigh. "Before he left, he told me something when you were asleep." She noticed he came over more attentive if not concerned, and she knew that she couldn't just back out of telling him, not then. "He told me he was angry at Lauren for hurting us both. I-I mean first of all, she slapped me and then she…ran you over. He wanted to make her pay for what she did to us."

"Ok, love, ok," Chris spoke softly, "so that was it? He only _told _you that?" He could understand Tom's mindset; after all, the two males were firm friends.

She swallowed hard. "Well, the morning after I was listening to some music in my room and then the news came on. They mentioned that they found Lauren dead in her house."

His expression came over more blank but he didn't release her from his grip. "What makes you so sure it was her they found dead?"

"They gave out her name," she tearfully replied. "I think Uncle Tom killed her."

"No, don't think that." He squeezed her shoulder a few times to reassure her, if not to convince himself that his own friend, someone he deeply cared about, couldn't stoop to such a level…to _kill_. "He's a good person. He would _never _hurt anyone, love."

"But he wanted her to pay for what she did…"

"That's true, but someone might've gotten there _before_ him." He assumed. "Even if he wanted to make her pay, he wouldn't _kill_ her, let alone _hurt _her. He just wouldn't."

Clara noticed he was shivering a little and she placed her hand on his that still had hold of her shoulder. "Dad, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not upset," Chris would've sounded convincing but his blank state was a dead giveaway that no, he was not even remotely thinking straight. "But at the same time it isn't that I don't _believe _you."

She peered down at her watch, realising the time. "It's getting late," she noted. "We should get home so we can go to bed."

"Go home," he reiterated blankly, "good idea." He distractedly set about getting out his card when the bill was placed in front of them and paid it at the table.

She couldn't help but frown at how badly he was taking her bit of news. "I wouldn't make this up."

"I know," he slipped on his jacket and they left the restaurant together, "but I think you might've misheard what was said. I mean, the reception hasn't been that good 'cause of the weather…maybe there was a bit of static when you heard it?"

"You still _love _her, don't you?" She stopped dead on the pavement, her question making him stop and peer over at her. "That's what this is all about."

"It was just _one night_," he started weakly.

"You can't accept the fact that she's gone," she went on, coming closer to him, "and not only that but you also can't accept the fact that someone we both know has _killed _her…"

"Ok, _so what_ if I still _love_ her?" He retorted angrily, his pent-up emotions prompting her to jump back. "It wouldn't change anything. She's still _dead_."

"Dad, I…"

"_Enough_," Chris spoke agitatedly, "I've had _enough _of talking about her."

Clara went over to him and placed her hands on his arms. "Dad, I'm sorry. I should never have said those things. I mean, you've been there for me when I was grieving over Selena, so it's only fair if I should help you get over this."

"'Get over'?" He reiterated. "There's _nothing _for me to 'get over'."

"I can help you," she stroked his upper arms softly, "father-daughter bond, remember?" Her reassuring words prompted him to sharply pull himself away from her and disappear to where his car was. She was worried, if not hurt, that he'd decided to leave _without_ her.

She found herself on her own, as he sped off without any consideration for her. Had he _forgotten_ who she was? Was he really _that_ consumed by anger and held her completely responsible for it?  
>She wasn't sure about any of it, but she was <em>definitely<em> sure that it was a traumatic impulse on his part and he was capable of going anywhere and doing anything.


	42. Chapter 42

Clara spent a few hours trudging through the dark, deserted streets of the centre. The only sounds that accompanied her throughout the long journey were the ones coming from the pubs and bars that lined the road at either side.

She roughly knew her way from the restaurant she was taken to, to the flat, but she knew there was little guarantee that Chris was there.

Where could she go? She couldn't make out Janeece's road as she lived a few streets behind them, and she'd been apart from her father for some time.  
>She was growing tired, weak, sick and hungry, but she'd managed to get out of the centre and collapsed onto the doorstep of a house in one of the avenues she wandered into.<p>

Voices could be heard behind the front door, before it was heard to unlock and open. A bright light coming from the threshold blinded her and prompted a headache to form behind her eyes and she clutched her stomach, as she lay curled up on the ground.  
>"Urggh…" was all she could say through the exhaustion, before she was lifted up off the cold ground and blacked out.<p>

XXXX

Janeece's attempts at soothing a loudly bawling Cheryl were interrupted by a few hard knocks on her flat door. Taking her little one with her, she answered the door to a tired and concerned looking Chris. "S-S…I mean Chris…why are you here?"

He didn't answer but he looked badly shaken up. She was worried about the state he was in and she realised she couldn't make him stay outside, not when he'd been feeling so poorly.

"You'd better come inside," she grasped both of his wrists and pulled him in to her flat, "you look _frozen_…" She shut the door behind him and peeled off his jacket, which didn't do a lot of good at protecting him from the icy winds outside.

He allowed her to remove his jacket, gradually feeling rushes of warmth seep into him from the wall's radiators. She took him into her lounge and got him to sit down on her sofa before she folded his jacket up on her bed and attended to him.

She sat down beside him, taking his hands with hers and caressing the soft flesh with her thumbs. "Good to see you're warming up," she smiled encouragingly, gazing into his eyes that were incredibly red from tiredness if not the cold. "But I'll get you warm once you have a nice hot drink."

"I don't want one," he thickly replied.

Janeece ignored his protest, knowing that he was simply saying that to not intrude. He came to her for _some _reason, and she had been helping Tom with him.  
>She could do with a drink herself after learning that Cheryl had soothed herself to sleep whilst she was attending to him.<p>

She put the little one back to bed before making them both some hot tea.  
>"Here you go," she came into the lounge and put both drinks on the table in front of them, "just the way you like it."<p>

"Thanks," he dimly acknowledged, "but you didn't have to."

"Well I couldn't make you _stay _out there," she stated. "You look pretty bad."

"I'll bear that in mind before I leave, _doctor_."

She could understand what Tom meant by Chris giving him _lip_. "I don't think you should leave _tonight_." She looked at the time. "It's already half-ten." She then frowned. "And where's Clara?"

He felt a wave of guilt crash over him at hearing his daughter's name being mentioned, but he couldn't answer her as he didn't know where she was.

"I'm sorry, Chris," she sat with him after realising his posture came over more slouched on the sofa from exhaustion, "it's just that after everything you've been through I've been worried about you. _Everyone _is worried about you. We all have your best interests at heart, and if you're not happy in any way…all you've got to do is come here. Tom and I know how you feel."

His eyes sharply fixed on hers. "Y-you're right," he dimly replied, "I _don't _feel good."

"O-ok, well I can fix that for you," she was taken aback at his posture, which was one of dependence, "what is it you want me to do for you?"

His shivering picked up, and Janeece could do no more than hold him there. It was getting to the point where she was going to have to give him more body contact if holding hands with him wasn't enough.

"Drink your tea while it's hot," she added softly, "I made it a bit milkier for you so it'd help you to sleep."

"I don't wanna sleep," he replied curtly, "and even if I did I don't wanna sleep _here_."

She handed him his drink whilst she set about calling Tom. She dialled his number on her mobile and disappeared into the hall when he answered. "It's me."

"Janeece…" Tom sounded a little drained at his end. "Don't you know what the time is?"

"I'm sorry, Sir…I don't mean to interrupt, but I need your advice on something."

"Sure," he replied more willingly, "whatever it is you need help with…I mean you did your fair share of helping me with Chris, so…"

"That's just it," she amiably cut him off, "Chris is here."

"…What?"

"He came by my place," she explained. "He doesn't look at all good. I think he felt too messed up and he wanted someone to talk to. I thought as you're closer to him you might find it easier to tell me how I could help him. He's in no fit state to drive back home."

"How does he look at the moment?"

"Tired and weak," Janeece peered around the doorway to take in his appearance, "I gave him some milky tea so he'd sleep better."

"Ok," he breathed, "giving him something to relax is a good start. Has he been saying anything – mouthing off a bit?"

"Yeah, a little."

"The best thing to do about that is ignore it," Tom went on. "Once he's relaxed take him to bed. He'll settle in his own time."

"I-I just don't know what happened to make him come here," she shakily admitted. "He came here without his daughter…I don't know where she is and he can't tell me where she is – either that or he doesn't _want _to."

"He'll be ok," he reassured her, "everything will work itself out in a day or two."

XXXX

"How are you getting on with that now?" Janeece came back into her lounge to find that Chris had finished his drink. "Oh, good. Let's get you to bed."

"But I already told you, I don't –" He was cut off by her driving him to one end of the sofa and taking hold of his legs so he could lie down on it. The cold, anger, exhaustion and the effects of the hot, milky tea were all working in slowing him down. His eyelids felt heavy and he inwardly sulked as he closed his eyes and sank into a light sleep.

She threw a warm blanket over him, which he immediately curled up under, and it was then that she realised he'd fallen into a deeper sleep.

XXXX

The next morning, Janeece had the day off so she was happy to call Tom to let him know Chris was not well enough to come into work. Once she told him she came by the lounge, seeing the young male still bundled up in the blanket he was curled up under.  
>She smiled softly at the way he'd positioned himself, her expression fading when she heard knocking at her door.<p>

"Not now," she quietly told herself before answering the door. She opened it to two of her girlfriends she'd promised to go into the centre with. "Hey…come on in."

The three of them engaged in idle girly chitchat in the hallway, coming to an abrupt end upon discovering the young male deeply asleep on her lounge sofa.

"Now don't wake him up," she warned them, "he needs to sleep, he's not very well."

"Wow, Janeece…what have _you _been up to with him?"

"N-nothing, I…"

"He's cute." Her blonde friend tousled his dark bangs, which were a little windswept from the previous night.

Janeece tried hard not to get annoyed at her two mates mothering Chris and cooing over him as if he were a pet. She then started to think that they both preferred staying there and making a big fuss of him than to go out on one of their weekly shopping sprees. "He won't be very happy if you wake him," she ominously pointed out, prompting them to stop their petting and leave him alone. "I'll go get Cheryl. I won't be gone long."

XXXX

Clara awoke in amongst the warm bedclothes, finding that the room she was in was shrouded in darkness from the curtains across the window. She felt every joint in her body ache from the lack of medication, and her head was pounding hard. She also felt sick and she squirmed under the wet cloth that was placed against her forehead. She softly gasped at the ministration.

Her stomach cramped painfully but the muscles in her arms were so sore and stiff that they stopped her from trying to rub the discomfort away. She whimpered in pain, but her pained noises stopped when something sharp pierced her in her side.

"It's ok, it's ok…this'll help you," a familiar voice reassured her as the sharp pain faded away. "It'll make you strong again."

"Dad…Dad, is that you?" She hazily spoke, her voice heavy with exhaustion. "I-I had such a bad dream…I dreamt that we argued, and you left me and –"

"Ssh…" A hand, relatively larger than that of her father's, placed itself on her shoulder and squeezed her there comfortingly. "Relax now. Go back to sleep."

She made to stir some more, but the hand moved to the underside of her jaw, caressing the soft skin with slow, rhythmically soothing movements.

"Good girl."

XXXX

Chris felt the early afternoon rays shine onto him through the lounge window, hitting him across his eyes. "Janeece," he hazily started, finding that the girl's two friends had surrounded him. His eyes widened and he scrambled into a sitting position, ensuring that there was nothing showing that they shouldn't have seen.

"Aww, he's awake." The black-haired girl to his left slid her fingers through his dark bangs. "And he had a _nice _long sleep."

Janeece heard the commotion and she came into the lounge to see the two girls cooing over the young male again. "Ok, girls, I think that's enough," she stated amiably. "I don't think he wants to be played with." She saw them off once they'd stopped hugging him and checked up on him. "They weren't too rough with you, were they?"

"I don't think so," his eyesight was still blurry from sleep, and so he couldn't make out the time.

"It's gone one-thirty," she told him, sitting beside him on the sofa. "How do you feel?"

"Still rough," he admitted, rubbing the sleep from his eyes so he could maybe see a little better.

"Do you wanna tell me about what happened last night before you came here?" She asked him carefully. "Or…not really?"

He shrugged, beat. "I don't know if it's something you can help me with."

"Maybe not," she placed a hand on his back and stroked him up and down the length of his spine, "but maybe talking about it would help you feel better. That's what it did for me when I talked to you about my break-up, remember?"


	43. Chapter 43

The unfamiliar male checked up on the young girl, going into the spare room and seeing her awake in amongst the bedclothes. "You've been asleep for quite some time," he explained softly, "how are you feeling now?"

"A lot better," she replied thankfully, her fear mounting when she realised who had found her was someone she'd never seen before. Her eyes widened and she shrank against the bed's headboard in fright. "Who are you? Where am I?"

"Hey, sweetheart," he placed a hand over her forehead to see if she'd cooled down from her mild fever. "It's ok now…you're looking a lot better since I found you outside. Don't you know it's dangerous to be alone out there at that time of night? I hope your parents knew where you were."

"I don't know," she replied icily, "and I don't care."

He frowned from her retort. "Things between you aren't good, are they?" He assumed. "I can always send for a doctor. Maybe they'd be able to help you…"

"They might be able to help someone _else_," she answered back curtly, not completely appreciative of the stranger's help.

"It's ok," he placed his hands on her shoulders to make her lie back down in bed, "it's ok now. I won't let you leave till you feel better. You're just confused, that's all. And you had a couple of bad dreams. The doctor can help you with that, you know. They can make it all go away."

She looked to see that her belongings, minus her underwear, were folded up on the chair next to the bed. Her bag had been opened, and she inwardly hoped that she hadn't been mugged whilst she was out. "M-my medication…I need it."

"You mean _these_?" He assumed, showing her the empty casing to one of the injection vials. "I thought it might help if you took one. You might've ended up seeing a doctor a lot sooner than we would've wanted, so I topped you up with one you had. You still have some left over in case you need to stay here for longer."

"I don't wanna stay here," Clara protested, "not when I have to tell someone something."

"What is it you wanna talk about, love?" he asked softly "Is it what had happened between you and your dad? Is it something I can help you with?"

She felt the tears come and she found it hopeless to hold them back.

"I know you don't know me and I don't know you, but I wanna help you, really I do." He took hold of her hands.

She lay back down in bed, feeling her strength get sapped out of her from the intense sadness.

"The sooner you tell me what happened, the sooner you'll feel better and maybe I can put you in contact with your parents."

She shook her head, blinking a tear away. "I don't think my dad wants to see me anymore," she drew in a small sigh, "not since what I told him has probably hurt him."

"I'm sure that, really," he squeezed her wrists comfortingly, "your dad loves you."

She swallowed back a sob.

"I'm going to call someone, ok?" He went on. "I won't be gone long."

XXXX

"…And then I just left her," Chris explained to Janeece as she'd sat through their talk, "I don't know why I did it, but I felt so angry…and I feel bad for leaving her."

"Would she have known her way back?"

"Up to a point," he admitted, "she would probably have gone so far and gotten lost. She could've ended up anywhere and ended up sick…"

"You can't think that," she rubbed his back softly, "if there was anyone about they wouldn't have left a girl at her age lying unconscious on the ground late at night. She might've been taken to hospital, but she wouldn't have been alone."  
>She heard her mobile go off and she answered it. She was surprised to find that it was Tom on the other end.<p>

"How is he?"

"He's better," she took the call in her hallway, "a little mixed up but pretty much back to normal."

"Good."

"He's told me about what happened last night," she went on, "but I think we should start searching for Clara, Sir."

"Why?"

"W-well, she's gone missing," she noticed the young male's posture come over more weighed down, "and he's freaking out about what might've happened to her."

"I think the last thing anyone should do is think about looking for her," the stockier male answered.

"But she's missing," she reiterated, "and she's poorly. If she doesn't take her medication when she's meant to…"

"What concerns me the most is the way _he's _feeling," he went on, ignoring her protest. "He's not going out there any time soon, sifting every side street he comes across. Not in _his _state."

Janeece resignedly hung up, realising she wasn't going to get anywhere with the conversation. Why had Tom suddenly not wanted to help searching for Clara? If she wasn't found, Chris certainly wouldn't be feeling any better and he probably wouldn't _ever_.

"Who was that?" The younger male asked, sitting back against the sofa. He couldn't get over how comfy it was to sleep on and he was worried he would've put his back out after lying on it overnight and into the morning.

"I-it was Mr Clarkson," she told him weakly, seeing him perk up a little.

"What did you tell him?"

She didn't want to break the bad news to him and instead decided to make them both a drink. At least then it would've given her time to think up a reasonable answer for him.

Unfortunately he followed her, not content with receiving no answer or explanation from her. "J-Janeece, you must've told him _something_," he went on shakily, "he knows as well as anyone that she means _everything _to me."

"He doesn't want us to look for her," she eventually managed to explain.

"But we _have _to," he protested. "She's poorly. She takes medication."

"He knows that," she replied, looking to him carefully, "but he's more worried about _you_."

"I'm _fine_," Chris lowered in eyebrow in suspicion, "it was just a _chill _I had and I slept it off."

She stirred the milk into both cups. "Wherever she is she wouldn't be alone."

"I have to look for her." He suddenly stated. "No one else will, so why can't I?"

"I think you should do what he suggested," Janeece told him firmly, "you aren't going to be doing yourself any favours by going back outside, not if you've just gotten over a bad chill. What if you get sick again?"

Realising he wasn't getting anywhere with her, he could no longer keep his defences up and he found himself being hounded back to his temporary home on the sofa.

"Now you stay there and rest." She disappeared back out of the lounge and reappeared with a hot cup of tea.  
>It wasn't as milky as the one she gave him the previous night, but she knew that the best place for him was bed or some other alternative. "Maybe he has a point."<p>

"Maybe he _doesn't_," he retorted, preferring to stare into the depths of the cup.

She got her drink and sat on the other sofa. "He does have your best interests at heart, you know, Chris…"

"Then maybe _he_ should go out there and look for her."

She cast her gaze away before looking back at him. "He wouldn't have wanted you to stay put if he felt it wouldn't benefit you."

"I blame _myself _for all of this," he noted blankly to no one in particular.

She leant further forward, but she felt so badly for him that she chose to sit on the same sofa as him only the other end of it. "No…don't do that. You were angry. And everyone gets angry, don't they?"

"But the way _I_ got angry," he felt a wave of guilt crash over him, "I shouldn't have let it get in the way."

XXXX

Clara gradually started to feel tired, achy, hot and feverish quarter of an hour later.  
>The unfamiliar male administered another cool cloth to her forehead to push the fever out of her system, before someone came to his front door. He answered it and let in the doctor he called out.<p>

"She's upstairs in the spare room," he explained as he led him to where the poorly girl was resting, "she's got one hell of a fever at the moment…" He closed the door and took him to the room.  
>"She's been drifting in and out of her senses since the symptoms started…I'm trying to get the worst of the fever down up to now."<p>

"Is she your daughter?"

"No, she's someone else's…she crashed out on our threshold last night and she's been kept here ever since."

"Do you know her name?"

"Unfortunately, no," he rifled through her bag in hope of finding some form of identification on her, "I only administered her a shot that she had on her. I can only guess she takes them now and again."

"If I decide to take her to hospital, we would have to let her parents know…" The doctor lifted up one of her eyelids, seeing that everything seemed pretty much untoward. She hadn't slipped into a feverish convulsion, but she was very hot and sweaty. "Can you hear me, love? If you can, squeeze my hand…"

No response.

"I can't get any response from her," the doctor looked to the other male worriedly, "so I'll have to let her parents know. Did you manage to find some identification on her?"

"I found this," he handed him an alert card Clara carried on her.


	44. Chapter 44

"How are you feeling?" Janeece took the cup that Chris had finished with. She was glad to see it was empty. "You must be feeling better if you drank all of that."

"I needed waking up," he replied blankly.

She disposed of the empty cups before dropping next to him. "Want anything else?"

"Anything else like what?"

She shrugged. "If you were hungry at all I can always go out and get something…" Her voice tailed off a little. "…Although I don't like the idea of leaving you here by yourself."

"Janeece, I'm not a _cripple_," he pointed out, "I'm a big boy."

She smirked to herself. "It isn't that. I'm getting the strange feeling that by the time I come back you might've gone."

"I'm not going anywhere," he sat back and threw the blanket back over himself, "I promise you."

"So are you going to promise me that you won't leave here and go off on some form of search for Clara?"

He looked to her carefully. "Not if you want me to stay put." He noticed she went out of the room to get her coat on. "You won't be long though, right?"

She gave him a firm look. "No more talking." She folded the blanket in more so he was warm enough. "Now sleep."

XXXX

"I didn't wanna overload you," Janeece admitted once both of them had finished their portions from the chippie she went to, "I didn't even know what you wanted but you hadn't eaten anything since you came here."

"It wasn't as though I _needed _it," Chris replied, "but I guess I should thank you for your concern."

"What do you mean, it wasn't as though you needed it?" She laughed a little. "Have you not looked in the mirror lately? There's nothing to you."

"But you don't see what's _underneath _this t-shirt," he explained.

She came over more sombre and looked to him more intently. "Do you remember much else about what happened?" Her question prompted a wide-eyed look from him and she rather hoped she hadn't triggered another reaction from him. "You don't have to answer that if you don't want to…"

"Only getting mowed down," he stated. "Everything else is still a blur."  
>He felt a small stab just above his navel at the memory of what went on during his time in theatre and he felt a wave of nausea sink back down into the pit of his stomach. He scrunched his eyes shut, allowing the fear to make him see things he didn't want to see.<p>

Flashes of light blinded him and the only things blocking the worst of it out were several dark, tall silhouettes. Then…darkness hit him again.

"…Chris?" The young girl had taken hold of one his hands and placed it between hers, allowing them to alternate their caresses. "You still with me?"

He snapped to, his eyes becoming less glassy. "Sorry."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Don't do that again…you looked a little spaced out. Unless…did you remember something?"

"Nothing important," he lied.

"You're a habitually bad liar," she smirked.

He drew in a small sigh, feeling his bottom ribs ache. "Something just struck a nerve. I remembered something when I was under – or at least when they _thought _I was."

"Mr Clarkson told me that something went wrong in theatre," Janeece admitted, "and you're saying that he was right?"

He looked to her slowly. He didn't ever think he'd end up confiding in her, but he was starting to realise that she wasn't a complete big mouth. "I woke up partway through. I didn't feel any pain and I didn't even know how far into the operation they'd gotten, but I could _see _them. I even heard them talking. I haven't put much thought into what they were saying, but…after a few seconds they must've realised I was awake and then they put me out again."

She nodded in acknowledgement.

"I mean what did they even do to me?" He asked, his voice dripping with confusion. "If I can remember being awake partway through the op you would think I would remember what they did."

"The recall will probably happen in pieces, so don't worry." She reassured him. "If you feel any better I can try and help you remember now. These thoughts and feelings," she took his hands with hers, "are what you're blocking out. And I'm only right here if you start feeling odd or that you wanna stop. You don't wanna keep avoiding having to talk about it, do you?"

XXXX

The doctor came into the ward after a nurse had helped Clara into some bedclothes. "Feel any better now, sweetheart?"

"A lot better," she saw the nurse link her up to an IV line that started to get a good flow of fluids into her.

"Now Clara," he stood by the head of the bed and placed a hand over her forehead, "the people who were taking care of you said you wanted to talk to someone. Who was it you wanted to talk to?"

"I-I don't know," she squirmed a little under the blankets as she felt the aching in her joints come back, "just someone."

"Another doctor, like a counsellor?" He suggested. She shook her head. "I can't help you if you don't tell me."

She whimpered a little from the hot feeling that was still overtaking her. It wasn't as strong but it still made her feel awful.

"The medications are still going to take time in getting to you," he explained, "you had missed a few doses, but don't worry. You won't feel rough for much longer."

"Dad…" She mumbled thickly. "I want my dad…"

"We can't get hold of him right now, but we're still trying to."

"I-I have to tell him," Clara clutched her stomach, "I have to tell him about what I saw."

XXXX

Tom came by Janeece's flat after he finished work. "How is he?" He was taken to the lounge where Chris had stayed since he got there.

"He's getting better, I guess." She shrugged. "He's still worried about what's happened to Clara."

"I know but the last thing I would want is for him to go out there. Janeece, he's sick. He'd only end up with another chill and the next time he does it might finish him off."

"Try telling that to _him_," she dropped down next to the younger male, who was sleeping deeply on the sofa in a curled up position. She slid her fingertips through his dark bangs but he hardly stirred. "He's remembered a little bit more about what had gone on."

"So that's good," he sat down on the unoccupied sofa not too far away from them, "staying here has helped him, then."

He shifted about under the blanket, allowing his eyelids to open despite them feeling so heavy. "T-Tom…" He dimly mumbled.

"Hey, mate," Tom leant closer forward, "feel any better?"

"A bit," Chris sat up into a better position, "what'd make me feel even better would be if I went out and looked for her…"

"No, not yet." After seeing Janeece get up he took her spot next to him and placed a hand on his back. "I know you must think I'm doing the worst possible thing ever by suggesting you stay put, but you don't even know where she is. And it's ice cold out there. You could catch a worse chill."

He said nothing but peered disappointedly at the floor.

"Maybe talking about what you remembered might help," he went on. "You feel up for that?"

"I don't know how ready I feel. And the furthest back I can remember was when I woke up in theatre, partway through," he reiterated, beat, "everything else is just…I don't know. Blank, I guess."

"So you can remember waking up partway through theatre," Tom wanted to recap. "Can you remember…waking up when the girls were there?"

"Pretty much."

"What about when I came by?" He nodded. "We want you to guide us, mate. Is there any time you _don't _remember?"

"I don't think so."

"Well, that's ok." The stocky male reassured him. "The main thing is your memory is ok up to now. You haven't lost any part in particular, but talking more about it might help you to forget about it. That's how some forms of counselling help."

"But Tom, I don't need a counsellor."

"I'm not saying you do," Tom replied, "but talking about what had happened might help you to move on. And that's what you want, isn't it?"

Chris sat back, finding that he and Janeece, who had taken up the space at his other side, had both taken each of his hands and caressed them softly. "It's going to hurt, isn't it?"

The stockier male lowered an eyebrow questioningly.

"Trying to remember," he clarified, "it isn't going to be pleasant."

"No, these type of things usually aren't," he clarified, "but you've got us here with you. And we won't let anything happen to you."

"Just try and relax, Chris," Janeece spoke softly, "you might find it easier to remember if you do that."

"Not that I'm a coward, but I don't think I can deal with this." He shrank against the sofa. They continued to stroke his hands comfortingly.

"You're afraid of the unknown, and that's ok." The stocky male inched closer to him. "It's normal, mate…you're not a coward, I can safely tell you that. Just relax, ok? No one's out to get you."

"All you've got to bear in mind is that both of us love you," she piped up, "and that's why we're doing this. We're not doing it to hurt you, we wanna _help _you."

Tom looked to the girl slowly, realising that her words were working in getting him to settle.

"So close your eyes and take some deep breaths."

Chris reluctantly sank into a better position, swiftly closing his eyes and drawing in a sharp breath before taking much deeper, slower ones. He didn't see what benefit any of it was going to be.

"Feel relaxed now?"

There came a noise at Janeece's door and it startled the younger male so much that he jumped from in amongst the blanket. His eyes flew open and took on a startled, wide-eyed look.

"Probably some door-to-door people," she assumed as she got up to see who it was, "don't worry, I'll tell them to come back later."  
>She was more than a little surprised to see two police officers standing on her threshold.<p>

She swallowed hard. "Is this about _Clara_?"

"May we come in?"

She shakily let them through into the hallway, darting her gaze to the two males as they sat together and then back at them. "I-is she dead?" She wanted to know. "She didn't suffer…did she?"

"We're looking for someone you may know about," one of them started to explain, "his name is Tom Clarkson."

"_Sure _I know him. He's only through there…" Janeece pointed to the lounge in which prompted both of them to enter.

"…You _will _find it easier to talk, mate, believe me." Tom had finished giving the younger of the two more friendly reassurances before realising they were both not alone.

"Are you Tom Clarkson?"

"Yeah," he peered up at them, dubiously raising an eyebrow, "what's this about?"

"We have reason to believe you were involved in the murder of a young woman. We'd like to take you for questioning."

"Tom," Chris started weakly, not believing what he was hearing. "You didn't _do _it, did you?"

He shrugged. "I don't know what any of this is about." He placed a hand on his back and rubbed him there before getting up and straightening out the creases in his jacket. "But I have to do what they say."

"I _know_ that," he replied, "but what if what Clara told me was _true_?"

"_Clara_?" He frowned. "What has she told you?" He swallowed hard. "Has she been making up lies about me?"

He looked to him with a strange expression. It was one of disbelief, shock, denial and disappointment.

Janeece showed them out, and once they had gone went back to where he was sitting. "I didn't expect that," was all she could say.


	45. Chapter 45

"Why did they take him?" Chris immediately asked Janeece as she set about making them both a drink. She figured it might help to relax _both_ of them after what had just taken place in her flat.

"I think this has to do with _Clara_," she stated blankly, "wherever she is she's _told _them."

"I remembered her telling me about it that night when I _left_ her," he admitted, "I didn't ever think that she would've had it in her to tell anyone _else_."

"But we both know him," she reassured him, "so hopefully they'll only have to keep him for so long to question him and then let him go. And they didn't _arrest _him, did they?"

"No, but it could well get to that stage."

She heard her mobile go off and she answered it. She instantly disappeared into the hallway. "Clara, where are you…?" She had to ask her the questions she wanted to ask her in a delicate manner; after all, she didn't know what state the girl was in.

They were talking for what seemed like hours but was in fact for twenty minutes before they ended the call and Janeece went back to making drinks.

"Who was that?" He was lying back down on the sofa but found it hard to relax after what had gone on minutes before.

"You might be happy to know that was your daughter," she softly explained.

"She _called _you?" He immediately sat back up, prompting a stern look from her. "I have to see her, I need to."

"You're not going anywhere and neither is she," she went on, "she's under hospital observation."

Chris thankfully took the cup she was going to hand to him. "She's _sick_?"

"Apparently she was found on her last legs on someone's doorstep. They took her in thinking they could help her. She was given top-up meds she had on her, but they didn't work for too long and so a doctor admitted her."

"The top-up meds are exactly what they _are_," he noted, "they only work if she gets a sudden increase in her symptoms. Stress would cause that – anything that'd make her worsen within a short space of time. But they shouldn't be taken when she hasn't stuck to the dosing."

She nodded sadly before sitting down next to him.

"I shouldn't have left her that night," he then thought out loud, slowly. "Had I not have left her none of this would've happened."

"But Tom might still have been taken away," she reminded him.

"So she was really _that _bad?"

Janeece looked to him carefully. "Doctors have put her on an IV. She said she felt very hot and achy and she was sick a few times."

"Sounds like they don't wanna let her go just yet." He got into a better sitting position and leant forward on the sofa. "If she felt hot and achy that's a sign that she's getting sick from missing the doses. They're probably looking at a couple of days if she's on a drip."

"But none of that is your fault," she placed a hand on his back, "it doesn't even make you a bad father."

"_Doesn't _it?" He retorted, not so much as causing the girl to flinch from his answer. "I left her and I made her get sick. I should've let her tell me when she wanted to and she wouldn't be ill."

"You can't think about that now," she inched closer to him, "it's over, isn't it? And she's in the best possible place that'd help her. She wants to see you and I've said that she can come here once she's out. She didn't mean anything by what had gone on that night."

"I know and neither did I. But _Tom_…hurting someone? I don't see it."

XXXX

A couple of days later, Clara was driven to Janeece's place by a taxi sent by the hospital staff. She got to the threshold and waited for her to answer the door.

She opened the door to her and let her in before giving her a hug. "You've made so many people worried, you know."

"I know but I should really be getting back home to see if dad's ok."

"He's here," she closed the door behind them and placed her hands around her wrists.

"But why?" She frowned, all sorts of thoughts springing to mind about what _they_ could've been doing together. She knew Janeece found Chris attractive, what woman didn't, but she didn't know how attracted he was to her. He'd never _shown _any so far as she was aware.

"He wasn't thinking straight," she replied. "Clara, he was in such an awful state. He drove here after the tiff you had and he looked so rough."

A wave of guilt crashed over the young girl. "So it'd hit him quite hard then."

She nodded. "He hasn't even been home since. He felt bad since leaving you on your own outside that night and he thought about finding you once or twice. He was worried he wouldn't see you again."

"Where is he now?"

Janeece took her through to the lounge, where the young male in question was still occupying her sofa. He was asleep and had been so from the previous night, curled up with the blanket keeping him warm. "He hasn't moved from there since he came here."

"You two," she looked to her slowly, "haven't…done anything?"

She smirked to herself. "Wish we _had_." She came over more sombre. "All he's done is sleep."

"How did he take the news?" Clara wanted to know.

The other girl's eyes widened in confusion. "You mean about _Tom_?" She nodded. "Not well."

She slid her fingertips through his dark bangs, which had fallen flat from the extensive respite. "I didn't think he would, given how close they both were."

"Clara," she bent down to her level, "were you the one who told the cops?"

"What if I told you that I was?"

She shrugged. "Nothing would come of it," she supposed. "Neither of us would think of you any differently but we would just wanna know."

His eyelids flickered before they lifted themselves to reveal the big, blue eyes underneath. He found himself gazing straight at the younger girl, caught up in a mixture of confusion and doubt. "I must be hallucinating," he said after some time.

"No," Janeece smiled softly, "she's come here to see you."

Chris sat up a little bit better, reaching out and grasping a shimmering coil of dark blonde hair. He twirled it around an index finger a few times, attempting to make sense of what was going on.

"Dad, it's ok," she placed a hand on his wrist as he continued the ministration, "you don't have to worry about me anymore."

Without a word, he quickly sat up and pulled her into a hug. She threw her arms around his neck as she ended up sitting in his lap.  
>She'd never known him to hold onto her so tightly and she was afraid he was going to squeeze her to death.<p>

"I'm sorry," he admitted shakily, "I am so sorry. I'll never hurt you again."

"You didn't hurt me," she placed a hand against the back of his head, not caring how flat or oily his hair felt. "I still love you."

"I know," he nuzzled his nose in amongst her soft, sweetly scented hair, "and I really love you."

"But what about Tom?" She leant back, looking to him questioningly. "You must _hate _me for saying what I did."

His gaze on her didn't change. "Why would I hate you?" He kept his arms wrapped around her waist. "I may not fully believe what's happened, but that doesn't mean I don't _trust_ you or _love_ you. I'd hate for what had gone on to be _true_, who wouldn't, but you said what you did for a reason."

She nodded slowly.

"Does that sound fair to you?"

"It sounds fair enough for now," she admitted, noticing the areas under his eyes were a little dark and puffy but not too bad. "I'm sorry I made you feel so bad."

"No, don't be," he pulled her closer into the hug, "you're ok now. That's all I should be worried about."

Clara closed her eyes, enjoying the nice, long cuddle. She missed contact like that for so long. "What happens now?"

"With what, love?"

"With work," she replied, "now that he's gone."

"Let's not worry about that," he stroked her up and down her back, "I think we should go home and get back to where we left off."


End file.
